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i-will-physically-fight-you · 4 years

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Faith, Trust and a Little Bit of Pixie Dust

Title: Faith, Trust and a Little Bit of Pixie Dust

Summary: It’s cold in the cellar, but then if it isn’t cold it’d defeat the whole purpose of a cellar. This coldness had been fine at first, but the longer Logan and his little brother Virgil stay, the more it worsens. Logan just hopes his mother’s temper wears off soon or else the cold could get fatal.

The last thing Logan expects is for his father, who he hasn’t seen in years, to show up through golden portal (a magic portal, which should be impossible!) to save the day as if he hadn’t abandoned them to this fate by leaving all those years ago.

Pairings: Brotherly Analogical, Parental Loceit

Word-Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Magic, Child Abuse, Physical & Emotional Abuse, Unhealthy Romantic Relationship, Hypothermia, Alcohol, Death Mention, Morally Grey Janus, Crying, Angst With a Happy Ending

This fic was at times both frustrating and fun to write. I have no plans to continue this fic, but you can ask me questions regarding the ‘verse and I’ll answer them. Janus has good intentions in this fic he’s just bad at expressing them and we’re also seeing this from Logan’s pov.

It was cold in the cellar. Then again, it would be rather alarming were it the opposite case. Cellars were historically used to store perishable items such as vegetables and meats in a time before refrigerators existed. Still prolonged exposure to such an absence of heat wasn’t good for any human being. Not without proper clothing or heating methods. Something both Logan and his young brother unfortunately lacked.

At first with just a t-shirt and jeans it’d been fine. A bit chilly but fine. What Logan hadn’t accounted for was a cold front to settle in unexpectedly. Within an hour, it dropped by forty degrees. His little brother Virgil wasn’t fond of physical touch. Yet the young child clung to Logan for warmth. It wasn’t enough. His skinny frame still trembled, his lips turning blue. Logan himself felt the effects of his body trying uselessly to warm the cold environment around them. Still his bit his lips from shivering, desperate to attempt staying strong for Virgil.

“I-I-I’m s-s-scared.” Virgil cried, digging his head into Logan’s shirt.

I...I know.” Logan said, stroking his brother’s hair gently, “Things are...things will be alright.”

Logan had repeated this statement many times already to Virgil. Each time he grew less sure of it. However, he knew he had to remain strong for his brother’s sake. Ever since his brother was a baby, Logan had to grow up faster. Much faster than even before. Sometimes he resented this fact, but never for long. It was simply the way things were.

“C-c-c-can you tell me a story?” Virgil asked, and of course Logan obliged. For he knew the unspoken words in that request: I’m still scared. Can you make it less scary?

A story, for both the listener and teller, would be a beneficial distraction. Even though Logan was not a good storyteller. Once he did a short story assignment in middle school and received a C. His heart metaphorically sank at the sight of it and he dreaded going home that day. Virgil always seemed to appreciate his stories. Although praise from a kindergartener wasn’t worth much in the literary world.

Through frozen lips, he told a meandering story to his little brother. Sometimes his brother would ask questions or offer suggestions, abruptly changing the direction of the story. Logan himself barely remembered what it was about. It was as if someone else spoke through him as his mind drifted to other ideas.

It’d been dark for a long, long while. Usually his mother would’ve unlocked the door by now. She’d insist he’d make dinner while complaining of a terrible headache.

It was an unending cycle. His mother would do her best to stay sober and function as an adult for a few weeks. Then her mood would increasingly sour, little things piling up into an avalanche. It was hard to tell at times what would be the trigger. The one thing that made her slam open the alcohol cabinet and drown a whole bottle of vodka.

She wasn’t a nice person when drunk; hence the whole being-locked-in-the-cellar. Eventually after a few days of heavy drinking, his mother would come to her senses. She’d lock the alcohol cabinet and claim she’d never drink again. A lie nobody believed but herself.

Perhaps the lie was done in good intentions. His mother always insisted she cared for her children, in ways their father never could.

“He’s a snake, Logan,” She hissed once, banging her beer heavily onto a coaster, “A dirty, no-good deceiving snake.”

Logan said nothing. He had only a few memories of the man. Once, when Logan was nine years old, he showed up on their doorstep. He held a bouquet of roses for Mother and a much belated birthday present for Logan. It’d been one of the happiest he’d seen Mother. He stayed with them for a few days. He listened to Logan, complimenting him on his extensive knowledge about dinosaurs. The three of them went to a carnival together. For a fleeting moment, Logan had what the others kids at his school had; a family.

Then it ended with tears, arguing, door slams. Mother yanking him by the arm and leaving everything behind. Nine months later, Virgil was born. His father wasn’t there. Nor did he ever show his face again. A bitter, festering part of Logan despised him for that.

Mother acted like she cared at times. She’d purchase Virgil and Logan expensive gifts. Things she couldn’t afford without a credit card. She treated them to ice cream and insisted on giving them hugs. She never understood that Virgil found tactical touch without permission distressing. She’d brush it off, making remarks he simply needed to get used to it.

At times Logan allowed himself to pretend these niceties would last. He pretended his mother was a flawed human being who mostly did good by her children. He pretended the slapping and hair-pulling didn’t exist, that the cellar was just a cellar and not a place to fear. It was hard to pretend these things were true, when the reality became increasingly harder to ignore.

Virgil fell asleep in the midst of this. Logan hadn’t realized this at first. His tired mind plunged on, continuing the nonsensical story.

“Then Batsy the Bat escaped the Witch’s dungeon. He flew as fast he could, to warn his friends...ah. Virgil what do you think their names should be?” Logan squinted, the dim light making it hard to see if his brother’s eyes were closed or not, “Virgil?”

His brother slumped against him, his breaths long and labored. Logan frowned, shaking his shoulder, “Virgil?!”

Virgil made a grumbling noise, “What?”

“You need to stay awake. You--you can’t fall asleep right now.”

“I’m tireeeed,” Virgil complained.

“I--I know, but please. It--it isn’t good to sleep right now.”

“Why?”

Logan’s throat constricted, “Be--because well. I haven’t finished the story yet.”

It was a lie. The truth was that sleeping could be a dangerous thing for a hypothermia victim. Sleeping could lead to death. He couldn’t tell his brother that. He refused to let Virgil experience more fright than he already had in his short life.

“Okaaay.” Virgil said.

Logan continued with the story, pulling all his concentration into it. Yet it wasn’t enough to keep Virgil awake. He kept drifting off, unable to keep his eyes open. At one point his brother down crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He sobbed, repeating the words over and over.

“It’s alright, you’re okay, everything is gonna be--gonna be,” Logan stammered, struggling to force the word out, “okay.”

It was then that Logan knew they couldn’t remain in the cellar any longer. He’d have to overcome his one true fear for the sake of their safety and survival. What he feared even more than his mother, was losing Virgil. Logan was smart. He knew the odds of a kindergartener and a high school sophomore staying together in the foster system was slim.

He had been selfish to allow his mother to continue tormenting Virgil. It was wrong. Now both him and his brother were paying for it.

Logan could fix this. He just had to pull out his phone and call emergency services. He had to call and resist his foolish fears of his mother and separation from his brother. With one arm still tucked around his brother, he pulled the phone out of his pocket. A battered, beaten thing he’d purchased with his first paycheck. His mother was completely unaware of its existence.

He pressed the power button on as he gathered up the courage to call. Except the screen remained completely blank. He pressed it again, this time harder, hoping it’d been a fluke. It wasn’t. Again and again, he kept pressing the button, irrationally hoping for a different result.

“No,” Logan swallowed heavily, “no, no, no this cannot be happening--” “Logey?” Virgil hiccuped, his big glassy eyes staring up as his older brother with concern.

“It’s okay, Virgil,” Logan murmured, “It’s okay, It’ll be okay--”

He couldn’t say the words any longer. Not when a sob wracked his throat, his vision turning hazy with tears. He couldn’t be strong any longer. He was weak. His heart beat faster, the chasm in his stomach deepening. His little brother said something, but he couldn’t hear it. All he heard was his mind mocking his failure. Shrill and scorching like his mother.

StUpID DiD yOU ThINK ThAT wAS GOING TO WORK?

You and your little brother are going to die and it’s all yOUR FAuLt

UsEleSS

Not EVEn YoUR OwN FATHER WAntED YOU--

“Hello? Whoever is contacting me at this hour better not have a good reason.”

Logan’s thoughts jolted to a halt. What? He glanced down at his phone, but it was still battered and dead. Virgil looked just as confused and lost as he felt. He hid his face in Logan’s shirt, whimpering softly.

“Who...are you?” Logan croaked, doing a poor disguise of covering up his breakdown moments before.

“I think that is perhaps a question I should be asking you.” The strange voice replied. It was definitely emanating from the phone, but how Logan had no clue. It made no logical sense.

“I--I don’t know.”

“You don’t know your name?”

“No! I mean of course I know my name! I mean, you can’t be real--I must be hallucinating.”

“Oh?” The voice responded with a touch of some unidentifiable emotion, “this must be your first time then.”

“First time what?” Logan snapped, a headache starting to take form. He regretted raising his voice when Virgil let out a cry. He murmured a soft apology to him, attempting to ignore how cold his brother felt.

“Is there someone else with you?”

“No,” Logan said, before hesitating, “I mean perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

“You still haven’t responded to my question from before.”

“Let me broker a deal then. I’ll answer your question, if you tell me who you and your companion are.”

“Okay,” Logan shakes his head, wanting to laugh hysterically. What in Newton’s three laws of gravity was going on? Surely, he died. He died and this was some last minutes of brain activity occurring. Scientists after all, know very little what happens in one’s last moments of life. Nothing could quite prepare him for the answer the voice gave him, however.

“Well then, to quote a popular misguided piece of media, ‘you’re a wizard, Harry!’” The voice said, the verbal jazz hands evident in the voice’s dripping, dry wit. Something about it was painfully familiar.

“What.”

“You asked, I answered,” The voice chuckled, “now it’s your turn.”

“My--my name is Logan,” He said, blinking rapidly, “and my little brother..ahhh...oh! Vi-Virgil is here with me.”

“Logan, that’s your name? You’re sure?”

Logan frowned at that. Of course he was sure. Or was he? It was getting rather harder to focus. Or to breathe even. The crisp cold air hurt his lungs. Virgil slumped heavily against him, complete dead weight in his unconsciousness. Oh. That was bad. He knew that was bad.

“Logan?!” The voice yelled. Hmm, it sounded like they’ve been yelling at him for awhile now. He should acknowledge them. He nodded before pausing. Wait. He needed to respond verbally.

“Y-yes?”

“Finally. You seem like you’re doing absolutely fantastic,” The voice told him.

“Do I?” Logan asked, “I do not think I’m doing ‘fantastic’.”

“Where are you?”

Logan rattled off the address. Then he very casually added, “We’re locked in the cellar.”

“WHAT?!”

“It’s-s-s-s a punishment,” Logan shivered, his eyelids drooping against his will, “it’sssokay.”

“Yes, because all parenting books recommend disciplining your children by locking them in a cellar.” Maybe it was just Logan, but he got the impression the voice was being sarcastic.

“I need to cut the invocation call. I’ll be there soon.”

“Wh--how-hy?” Logan said, trying to speak three words at once. The voice didn’t respond. He tried shaking his battered phone as if that would do anything. It did not do anything.

The air frizzled in front of Logan. A golden spark appeared, expanding until it was one big golden shimmery oval. Logan stared at it, blinking rapidly. This was absurd. He most definitely had to be hallucinating. The golden oval ripples as a black fedora emerged from it, followed by a face and then a whole body.

“F--father?” Logan managed.

The man before him was older and dressed in strange clothing. Slivers of silver hair poked out from his hat, nestled among the chestnut hair. An unfamiliar gruesome scar ran alongside the left side of his face. But he recognized those hazel eyes anywhere. He stared at them at the mirror every morning.

He didn’t respond to Logan. He took a few steps before collapsing beside the huddled forms of Logan and Virgil. His gloved hands reached out, but he did not touch them. His mouth opened, but no sound came out of him. Then his gloves covered his face as he inhaled deeply. He removed them from his face, his expression carefully blank.

“I’m here.” He told Logan, extending a hand towards him, “and I won’t leave you or your brother this time.”

Logan stared at the yellow gloved hand before sluggishly panning his gaze up at his father. He didn’t know if he could trust him, let alone if he could trust that this was reality. But god, he wanted it to be real.

So cradling Virgil close to his chest with one arm, he took hold of his father’s hand. And then, with a bright flash of light, the cellar was empty.

Logan felt warm. A drizzling, dribbling, dripping like maple syrup down a fresh stack of buttermilk pancakes type of warmth. He should be alarmed by this for some reason, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be. Instead he made a contented noise, shifting closer to it. Someone chuckled, running a calloused hand through his hair. Logan stilled at the touch, the warmth evaporating from his veins. He waited for the fingers to grow taunt around a tuft of hair. For the harsh cacophony of his mother’s voice to rain down on him like hail. Nothing.

“Are you asleep, Little Tesla?”

The air in his lungs evaporated. Only one person had called him that and it certainly wasn’t his mother. As much as she expected him to receive good grades, she hadn’t been one to nurture his interests in 20th century scientists.

“Father?” Logan whispered.

“I’m here, I didn’t leave, just like I said I would.”

He opened his eyes to find his father was indeed there. Sitting on a wooden chair with sunken eyes as if he’d been awake for hours. Logan laid on a bed with silky sheets and an impossibly warm comforter. He had just barely enough to cover him--most of the blankets had been stolen by another small figure. Virgil. His little baby brother was with him, asleep and curled up in a small ball.

“Wha--” Logan started to say, until everything hit him. The cellar. The strange bodiless voice. The gleaming gold portal. Father. Darkness.

“Yes, yes, I know it’s not at all a lot to take in, but you have magic. And you found me again, just like I’d hope you would.”

“Found you?” Logan asked, a hardness to his tone, “Assuming this isn’t a hallucination, you left me with h-her, you never came back and suddenly because I possess magic, I’m what? Worth something?”

“Yes, no!” His father cried out with a frustrated growl, “Listen, Logan. My relationship with your mother was extremely healthy, as I’m sure you can agree. Not unhealthy in the slightest. When it ended, your mother left a lovely parting gift.”

Here, he rubs a hand against the facial scar almost absent-mindedly, “I wanted to find you, I searched everywhere, but your mother is smart and covers her tracks well. I’m...sorry I couldn’t find you or your brother sooner. You’re important to me, magic or no magic.”

“How can I trust you?” Logan asked, “How can I trust that you’re not anything like her?”

He expected his father to be upset by the accusation, but instead he just smirked.

“You’re good to be suspicious. It’s a good trait, don’t ever lose it,” He said, adjusting his gloves, “I can tell you, that I will not harm you or your brother. I can say I will teach you magic, if you desire. I can let you know that I will let you walk out the door with your brother, and you won’t ever have to see me or your mother again. But you have no true way of trusting a man that has, from what you know, abandoned you completely until just now.

“You have two options. Either accept you cannot completely trust what I say is true and proceed with caution, or you can leave with your brother, find a way to support the two of you. You’re smart, Logan. I trust you could figure it out.”

Logan swallowed. He was indeed smart--or knowledgeable enough to know there was little choice in the matter. He was just fifteen. He can’t support Virgil and him--not legally anyway. It’d be difficult to cover it up. Child Protection Services would be on them in a matter of weeks, if not days.

Good case scenario, they stayed together in the foster system. Bad case scenario, they ended up separated. Worst case scenario? They ended up back at their mother’s, because they don’t believe either of Logan’s or Virgil’s claims and the cycle continues without end.

So, his father. He was the only option, and he knew it. As much bitterness as Logan held for the man, there’s also yearning in equal spades. He used to spend nights crying for him with his mother yelling at him to shut up. Sometimes she’d beat him for it, telling him his father was never coming back. Then he’d snap back that she was wrong and he’d prove Logan right by coming back. Until little by little, he stopped.

He couldn’t trust his father, the man even admitted it. He just had to hope it’d be better, even though apparently the man believed in magic. Logan was doing his best at the moment to deny it existed. It couldn’t exist, last night had to be a fluke of some sort and even if it wasn’t, it was too much for him to focus on at the moment.

“As long as I have your word that you won’t intentionally hurt Virgil and I, we will stay with you.” Logan says, before offering his hand towards his father.

Father took a look at the extended hand, eyes softening, before clasping it, “You have my word, Logan, that I will not harm you or Virgil as long as you remain in my care.”

They shook on it. Logan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and then--and then, his vision blurred. A sob and then another erupted until he clenched his teeth, holding the rest back. For the second time within twenty-four hours he had shown weakness. First to his brother and now, now to his father who above all he should show no signs to. But like that creative writing assignment in the 8th grade, he completely failed.

Somehow halfway the handshake got turned into an embrace. His father hugged him, a calloused hand softly carding through his hair once more.

“Shh, Logan, you’ve been so strong, stronger than most. You won’t have to be strong alone any longer. Let it all out.”

Logan didn’t know what to think of his father’s words. It wasn’t like a set of logical propositions or a step-by-step formula for science. He couldn’t know for certain if they were genuine. But in this moment, he was but a little boy with his father back. So he dug his head into his father’s chest and finally cried. His father, in turn, did not berate or beat him for it. Instead, he held onto his son as he whispered reassurances all the while.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #kat writes

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the-record · 3 years

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The City of Romance (Part 4)

Summary: On Spencer’s mandatory leave, he plans a trip to Paris, France where he meets an unforgettable face.

Part 4 summary: It’s Christmas!

Italics: Translation French to English. Bold: Song lyrics

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Non-BAU!Fem!Reader

A/N: Ahh yes the beloved fluff. There will be angst (as there is in any relationship) and some other things but we all know how much I love love. Like it’s sickening.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Check out my masterlist here!

“Spence! You ready?”

At 6 months, Spencer asked you to move in with him. You spent a lot of time at his place already so you of course said yes. His place already kind of felt like yours so you had a natural routine down. Today was different. To most it was you average Friday. Last day of the week before the notorious and anticipated winter break. For you? For you, it was the day your class was going to meet Spencer. They had been begging you after seeing a polaroid of the two of you in your phone case. So, you asked him to come in and read to the class.

“Yeah, one second!” You were putting on your coat and boots when Spencer came out. He was wearing the usual white button up and cardigan with dress pants and converse. The best part of that day’s outfit, was his tie. It was white with navy blue, to match the cardigan, silhouettes of dinosaurs on it. They were something your kids had an infatuation with. You giggled softly when you saw it.

“Nice tie. Boy genius is starting to seem like fitting nickname.” You winked at him before throwing his coat at him. He miraculously managed to catch it from across the room.

“Shut up. You’re literally wearing a 1950′s style Christmas dress with mistletoe in your ponytail.” You gaped at him and scoffed.

“It’s for teaching!” He raised his eyebrows. “The kids love history and I thought this would be perfect. My lesson plan has us teaching them about Christmas throughout the decades.” You took out the small plant from your hair and held it over the both of your heads. “And this... This is for you.” You leaned into him, on your tiptoes, placing a kiss on his lips before pulling away and putting the branch into your hair again. You gripped his hand in yours. “Now, come one before I am late.”

He followed your lead, walking behind you out of the apartment before heading to school on the metro. School was never kind to him, but if you were there everything would be okay. You were practically buzzing from excitement. Like his team was his family, these kids started to feel like yours. You couldn’t tell them things that you could tell adults, but they were the most understanding people in the world and you would do absolutely anything for them. When you arrived outside the school, hand in hand with Spencer, her thought you might just run all the way down and speed up time so the children got there quicker. If you could do that, you would’ve. Instead you walked with Spencer and prepped the room for teaching. You set out cards for every kid and set up the party later today. You printed and got worksheets prepared while Spencer chose what he was going to read. Finally the day was set and ready and the kids were set to arrive soon. Spencer sat in the back reading so he didn’t disturb the usual morning routine.

Kids began to line up at the door where you stood. “Good morning class! I know we are so excited about our guest and the party today but we still have lots of learning to do!” You called out, standing in front of the line. “At each of your spots is your morning work along with a coloring page for when you finish. Hang up your coats and bag and do those while we wait for all of our friends to arrive!” You walked inside the classroom with little boys and girls following you in. You sat in the front, correcting if a child ran or didn’t put away their stuff the right way. Spencer watched in awe as you interacted with every single human in the room. He watched as you helped kids with the math or reading they had been assigned.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” You looked up from the paper you were looking at to the voice you heard. It was a little girl named Charlotte.

“Yes Charlotte?” You made eye contact with the small girl, something you had established was good for making conversations.

“Is that your prince in the back of the room?” Your face flushed as a smile made it’s way on your face. The same giggle from this morning erupted from your lips.

“Yes sweetheart. That is my prince.” You winked at Spencer from the front of the room. “Okay kiddos, today is very exciting. Last day of school before winter break and a party! However, we have lots of learning to do. That starts with fixing our calendar!”

The day went smoothly and everything was fun and exciting for the kids. You were so grateful for Spencer being there because if it wasn’t for him, you would have never even made it to lunch time.

“Alright, when the kids get back we have social studies, then story time, and wrap up the day with the party. You my good prince, are going to be helping Ms. Y/L/N the rest of the day.” You told him. He and you had stayed in the classroom to eat pizza the secretary had ordered for all teachers.

“Okay, I have to ask. Why am I the prince?” You smiled and covered your full mouth with your hand before telling him the story.

“The girl ran down the stairs, leaving only a glass slipper. She had to get out before the clock struck midnight.” Your phone buzzed in your jean pocket. It was Spencer. He never called you in the day and he was supposed to be on a case right now. You sat the book down making sure not to lose the page. “Sorry kiddos. Everyone stay here and chat while I take this.” You left the gabbing children to answer the call in the hallway. “Spencer? Are you ok?”

“Hey, yeah I’m okay. We got the unsub and I’m heading home early...” He trailed off.

“What’re you not telling me?”

“It’s nothing, it’s just- I wanted to check on you. Something really big happened today and I can’t explain it but I just needed to know you were okay.” You smiled.

“I’m okay.” You peered back into your classroom. “School is almost done, I have to get back but I’ll see you when you at home, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Go teach some kids for me. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You hung up the phone and walked back in, still checking your phone.

“Ms. Y/L/N? Who is that in the picture with you on your phone?” You scrunched your eyebrows together, flipping the rectangle in your hand to look at the back. Your face relaxed when you saw the picture of you and him. Penelope had taken it when you were dancing with him to You Belong with Me in David’s backyard.

“That’s... That’s my bestfriend.” You spoke in a hushed tone.

“Is he your prince?” You let out a laugh through your nose.

“Yes. Yes, he is my prince.”

“Wow. That is adorable and now I have a favorite kid.” You smiled and looked at the time. The kids would be getting back in a minute so the both of you quickly cleaned up. You sat for a moment, nursing a Dr. Pepper while you waited for the sound of tiny feet rushing to the door. When you did you quickly stood up to open the door. The people outside the door quickly filled the room as you got ready to teach.

“Was your guys’ lunch good?” There were yeses around the room. “Well that is absolutely magnificent.” You turned to the front of the room to start teaching. “Should we get started on social studies now?”

“Alrighty ighty, that is all we have left today. Who knows what time it is?” Every kid from every table raised their hand in excitement. “Dominic.”

“Story time!” You smiled.

“That’s right! Now i want everyone to welcome our guest!” You grabbed Spencer’s hand and pulled him to the front of the classroom. He sat down in the chair you had pulled up. “This is my very good friend Mr. Reid. And Mr. Reid does really good story time voices so I need you all to listen,” You pointed to your ears with both hands. “Watch,” Your fingers moved to point at your eyes. “And think,” You moved your hands one last time to point at your head. “About the the story!” You winked at Spencer, signaling for him to get started.

“Hey kids!” There was an abundance of hellos and heys from around the room. “My name is Mr. Reid but you can call me Spencer. Today we are reading one of my all time favorite books!” He pulled out a book from behind his back. It was one that your father gave you many many years ago. “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.” He opened the book and began to read. “Every Who down in Who-Ville like Christmas a lot. But the Grinch who lived just north of Who-Ville did not!” Each voice differed from the other. His Grinch voice was hearty and deep making the children giggle, while his Who voice was higher and peppy. You sat next to the children, watching in awe just as they did. You didn’t look away not for a second. You didn’t have to. They were all entranced by his magical voices. No one talked and no one dared to move. The story was too compelling.

“And the minute his heart didn’t feel quite so tight, he whizzed with his load through the bright morning light, and brought back the toys! And the food for the feast! And he... He himself! The Grinch carved the roast beef.” He closed the book, soaking in the claps and whoops from the children. From you...

“Well Spencer that was absolutely fantastic! Do you guys agree?” Claps and screams floated around the room, bouncing off the walls to his ears. “Alright settle down, settle down. I know we are all very excited about the amazing story we just heard but we must get ready for our party!” You walked to front of the room and flicked on the lights that were off. “Okie dokie. I need everyone, when I say go, to walk to their cubbies and grab their coats and bags. Then I want everyone to walk back to their seats and place their belongings on the back of their chair before walking to get in line. I want no talking until we get in line so we can hurry and get down to the gym for the party! Ça sonne bien?” “Sound good?”

“Sounds good!” They all announced loudly.

“Alrighty, go!” They all rushed to stand up but walked careful around, packing up their bags and coats. “Your voices really are fantastic Mr. Reid. I think I might need you to come and read more often.” He blushed at your words.

“Well thank you Ms. Y/L/N. If we weren’t standing in a room filled with kindergarteners right now, I would totally kiss you.” You giggled and look down at your hands trying to hide the blush rising to your cheeks. “They really adore you ya’ know.”

“Not as much as they adore you Spence. I’ve never seen them so interested in a book before.” You looked around to see the little humans were all in line staring at you in silence. “Well...” You cleared your throat. “I heard that moms and dads are setting up right now, so I want everyone to be quiet and walk down the hallway single file. Can you do that for me?” They all nodded and you started walking down with them behind you to the gym. “Everyone go in and listen to Mrs. Jenkins so she can tell you what to do! I’ll be down to take outside for dismissal in a little! Be good for Mrs. Jenkins!” They all walked in their quickly leaving you and Spencer in the hallway. You grabbed his hand and pulled him back to your classroom. “Come on, I have something I want to show you.” You and him ran down the hallway to your room where you shut the door and walked to your desk. You pulled out a box wrapped in brown wrapping paper. You held it out. “Open it.”

He took the box carefully and slowly undid it. He opened the large purple box under the wrapping to the reveal a picture frame. It had a picture of you and him. It was from one of the dinners you went to. You had asked the waitress to take a photo while he wasn’t looking. You and him were laughing about something.

“Turn it over.” He did just that to see a note from you and the lyrics to You Belong with Me. As he read it you saw his eyes fill with tears. He set it down gently, careful not to break it before pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“Thank you Y/N/N. I love it, so so much.” You smiled. “I love you, so so much.”

“I love you too.” Your arms fell around your torso and his around your shoulders in a hug. He kissed your head before resting his chin on the same spot. You could stay this way for the rest of your life.

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You were woken up by the sun peeking through the blinds. You were cuddled up next to Spencer’s half clothed body. He was combing through your hair with his fingers.

“Mmm, good morning prince.” Your voice was thick with sleep.

“Good morning princess. Merry Christmas eve.” You smiled realizing what day it was.

“Merry Christmas eve.” You pulled yourself closer to him. “When did you get back last night?”

“Very late. I didn’t wanna wake you so I just got in bed and you cuddled close to me. I figured that would do until I saw you in the morning.” You chuckled lowly on his chest.

“I’m glad you’re back. I was nervous you would miss Christmas.” He placed a kiss on your head.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world sweet girl. I wouldn’t even dream of it.” You pulled the sheets higher up to keep warm. “You excited for dinner tonight?” Your heart dropped when you remembered. You didn’t answer. Instead, you looked at your hands which were drawing shapes on Spencer’s stomach. “Baby? What’s wrong?”

“My dad. It’s my second Christmas without him. These dinner’s were his idea.” A lone tear rolled down your cheek and onto Spencer.

“Oh baby. I’m sorry. I know this may not be what you want to hear, but it gets better. I mean I speak from experience. I know our situations are a little different, but my dad may as well be dead. We don’t have to go if you don’t want either. I can only imagine how hard this all is for you.” You shook your head.

“I have to go. It’s to honor him really. Thank you.” He nodded and pressed another kiss on your head before getting up. “Prince, what are you doing?” He grabbed your hands and pulled you up.

“I am taking my amazing, beautiful, sweet, kind, fantastic girlfriend to our kitchen to make her coffee and breakfast.” You smiled and leaned into him.

“You might have to carry me.” So he did just that. He picked you up and carried you to the kitchen, placing you on the cold counter tops. “Jesus christ!” He looked at you with concern in his eyes.

“What?”

“I’m in a shirt and my underwear. This counter is fucking freezing.” He smiled and shook his head.

“Just sit still and look pretty while I make you coffee.” You rolled your eyes and put your hands under your thighs to try and keep them off the cold slab of rock. Not much later Spencer handed you a sweet cup of coffee. You had grown to like his overly sweetened coffee and now requested it. You sipped on the mug as Spencer rubbed his hands over your legs. They inched closer and closer to the inside of your thighs. You set down the mug and took his hands in yours.

“Baby.” He whined at your actions and snuck his hands out from yours, getting back to what he was doing. “I’m gonna be late to set up if you don’t quit it.” He smiled even more.

“You better call Rossi, and don’t even think about making a noise.”

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“I am going to kill you Spencer Reid! We are so late right now!” You ran around the bathroom putting in jewelry.

“That’s not what you said earlier!” You reminded you.

“Well earlier I was happy and now I am stressed because we are going to be late! Are you ready?” You looked from the bathroom doorway to see him sitting on the bed, completely ready.

“Waiting on you princess.”

“Save it.” You grabbed the presents from beside your bed. “Let’s go.”

The door opened to a very cheery Penelope. “Y/N! Oh my goodness you look absolutely gorgeous! Wow, you are just-”

“Penelope, let them in it’s cold outside.” You silently thanked JJ.

“Yes, sorry.” She opened the door to let the both of you inside. He took your coat to hang up while you went in to see your friends.

“JJ!” The girl pulled you into a hug. “I missed you.” She pulled away.

“I missed you too. I think your uncle did too.”

“Oh shit.” Your hand quickly covered your gaping mouth. “Something... let’s just go with something came up.” You felt an arm around your waist.

“Something most definitely came up.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hey pretty boy finally decided to show up. Y/N, how are you?”

“Very tired and ready to go to sleep. How are you D?”

“I could say the same. However none of us will ever say no to a meal from Rossi.”

“You can say that again!” You turned to see Penelope now in the living room reaching out a glass of wine to you. You graciously accepted.

“Thanks Pen. Speaking of, where is David?” You looked around the room and didn’t see him. “And Aaron?”

“I don’t actually know. Now, come on we have been waiting on your both to start eating and I am sure the boys are getting antsy.” You held Spencer’s hand as you walked into the dining room.

“Y/N!” You looked to see both little boys running at you. You didn’t even have a chance to know what was happening before they pummeled into you. You ended up falling backwards right onto your ass thanks to your decision to wear heels.

“Boys!” JJ quickly came and swept them up. “Y/N I am so sorry about that. Are you ok?” She reached out a hand to help you up while Spencer gripped your arm for extra support. They both helped you up and back to your feet.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You smoothed out your dress. “I’m going to go get David and Aaron. I can only assume they are in his office talking about work.”

“Wait!” You turned to see Spencer grabbing your wrist. “I got it, go sit down.”

“Spence, I got it.”

“No, Y/N really. Let me.” He bit the inside of his cheek, a nervous habit.

“What is going on, why are you being so weird?” You folded your arms in front of your chest.

“Baby it’s nothing, just let me. Please.”

“Fine. Whatever, I’m gonna go sit then I guess.” You walked away without another word. The team could read you like a book. You were annoyed. Bothered. Upset. Confused even.

“Pretty girl, you ok?” You didn’t even look up to talk to Derek while you sat down.

“Fine.” You took a sip of your wine. “Why is Spencer being so weird? Like why couldn’t I just go get them? I mean David is my uncle not his. What is up with him? Was it me? Did I do something wrong?” You dropped your head into your hands. “Does he really just want to get away from me for a moment? Am I just overbearing?”

“Y/N.” You looked up at Emily. “He’s fine. Just... just trust us okay?” She could see you were still concerned but you agreed.

“Yeah. yeah, okay.” You took a large swig of wine and quickly refilled the glass.

You were awkward and cautious the rest of the night. You made sure not to be touchy, not to bring much up, not to talk to much really. You just tried to be in the background. This didn’t go unnoticed. Everyone noted how you would almost touch Spencer but pull yourself back. Or how you would open your mouth but close just as quickly as you opened it. They all noticed how closed off you became. Especially Spencer. He knew why but he wasn’t ready just yet. He had to go get the present from Rossi who had ordered it for him because he wasn’t very tech savvy.

“Present time!” Garcia announced. They had thought about just doing secret Santa, but you and Penelope had insisted on buying everyone gifts so you all had decided to just do presents. You all passed them around. JJ and her family were the first to open. Then Penelope, Derek, Emily, Rossi, Hotch and Jack, Spencer, and finally it was your turn.

The Jareau-LaMontagne’s had gotten you a blanket and spa day kit. They knew how kids were, having one, and thought that you might need something about having to be around them for hours 5 days a week. Penelope got you stuff for teaching. Derek got you a gift card for your favorite store. Emily got a necklace you had told her about months before. David got you lots of candles and your favorite snacks. Aaron got you and Spencer some useful household things. Spencer got you a cardigan to match one of your favorites of his.

“Thank you guys, I really loved it all.” You smiled at all of your friends.

“Actually, I have one more thing for you.” You turned to look at Spencer with scrunched eyebrows. He pulled out a small black box and you thought you might throw up. “Don’t worry. It’s not what you think, I’m not proposing.” You let out a breath of relief. He opened the small box to reveal 2 rings. One was a thicker ring with the cut out of a dinosaur and the other, a dainty ring with the dinosaur cut out attached. Your eyes welled up with tears.

“Baby...” He the smaller one out and placed it on your left ring finger.

“It’s a promise ring. A promise of my love for you.” You pulled him in for a kiss not even caring for the audience around you. When you pulled away you buried your face in his neck and hugged him as he pulled you into his lap. “I love you sweet girl. Don’t forget it.” All of your worries floated away as he said those words. He loved you and that is all you ever needed.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #Jennifer Jareau #emily prentiss #Penelope Garcia #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #david rossi #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fluff

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idmakeitbehave · 4 years

Text

Paper Elephants

Summary: You volunteer to stay late at work, staffing one of the museum's overnight sleepovers- perhaps your favorite part of the job. An easy night of origami, exploration, and laughter- what could be better? The one thing you didn't expect was the handsome stranger you find wandering the dinosaur exhibit.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: literally nothing, just absolute fluff (like a giant marshmallow)

Peals of laughter and quick little footsteps echoed throughout the museum. Right on time- the first arrivals for tonight’s sleepover.

You didn’t need to be here- not really. Your shift had ended at 6, but Cathy had practically begged you to keep her company. You didn’t mind. The sleepovers were always fun. Ridiculous and exhausting, but so so fun. Nothing quite like seeing a child peer up at the giant whale in wonder or the look on their face like they were accessing something forbidden. Being somewhere after hours always felt exciting, and you relished in the thought of each of the children being able to experience that.

Everything was already set up for their arrival, and you found yourself volunteering to staff the craft table. Helping kids learn some basic origami didn’t really feel like work to you at all. Besides, this meant you got to practice too. You showed a little girl next to you how to make a dog, folding the edges just so. When she showed you her finished product proudly, you gave her a warm smile and a little clap.

A blonde boy appeared on your other side, looking at you shyly. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes flickered to the papers on the table.

“You want some help, sweetie?”

He nodded bashfully, his hair falling in his eyes.

“What should we make?”

He seemed to turn your question over in his mind before breaking out into a wide smile. “A dinosaur!”

You gave a serious nod of approval. “Excellent choice. Dinosaurs are super cool.”

He picked out some paper- blue with white polka dots- and watched you eagerly. You began making your own dinosaur, demonstrating each step and waiting patiently for him to follow along. He picked it up almost instantly. It once again crossed your mind what extraordinarily quick learners children are. They haven’t had enough time for their heads to fill with self-doubt- they see something they want to do and they do it.

The boy finished his dinosaur (which may or may not have turned out better than yours) and held it in his hands for your inspection. “That is so beautiful!” He gave you a quick high five and a thank you before hopping off of the bench and scurrying across the room to a small group in the corner.

“Mommy, Mommy!” you heard him exclaim as he ran, “Look what I made!! That nice lady said that dinosaurs are super cool!”

The other child in the group peered at the dinosaur with wide eyes. “Whoa, that is super cool!”

The three adults turned to look your way, and you felt your face turning red. You were so used to working with kids, but sometimes you forgot how to interact with the grownups. The blonde woman, the boy’s mom you assumed, smiled kindly at you and you gave the group a tiny wave before turning back to the child across from you who desperately wanted to make a pink giraffe.

The hours passed quickly, the children bustling around all of the various areas of the museum with eager smiles and wide eyes. They came and went from your table and you finally began to pack up the remaining supplies. Almost bedtime. This was your favorite part. All of the children and grownups got to spread out their sleeping bags and settle on cots in the Ocean Hall. This was the part that still felt magical to you- no matter how old you were or how many sleepovers you staffed. Something about being in the museum at night, staring up at the huge whale was just incredible.

Despite the lateness, you weren’t tired. Maybe it was the copious amounts of coffee you had consumed or maybe it was the giggles echoing around the large room. Either way, you found yourself ambling out of the hall with the remaining origami paper in your arms, shooting Cathy a glance before you left. She nodded sleepily, sending a thumbs up your way.

You wandered towards the dinosaur exhibit on your way to the staff office. There was something about those giant creatures, all that history, that always drew you to it. Your footsteps were quiet in the empty hallways as you approached the brontosaurus, peering up at it.

You walked a little further, stopping in your tracks when you spotted a figure laying on the floor below the suspended pterodactyl skeletons. The man seemed to realize that he wasn’t alone at the same time as you did, sitting up with a start. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be here, I can go-”

You waved your hands flippantly, laughing at this man who was just laying in the dark staring at dinosaurs for some reason. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I work here, I won’t tell on you.”

He let out a sigh of relief, relaxing instinctively as you sank to the floor beside him. You could just barely make out his features in the dim lighting. “Oh!” you exclaimed, realizing why he looked vaguely familiar. “I know you! You were with that super sweet blonde boy- the one with the blue dinosaur!”

The man laughed quietly, a bright, wonderful sound. “That’s Henry, my godson. And if I remember correctly it was a super cool dinosaur.”

The teasing tone in his voice made you smile and you shrugged, a sheepish look on your face. “What can I say? I aim to impress all of the eight year olds.”

“I was also impressed,” he admitted, drumming his fingers on the floor beside him.

You glanced down at his hand before looking up at the pterodactyls that you were sitting underneath. “I’m Y/N.”

“Spencer.”

“Why are you hanging out with the dinosaurs, Spencer?”

Continue of Ao3

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #fic #sarasstuff

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thegoodomensdumpster · 4 years

Text

I WATCHED GOOD OMENS IN FRENCH SO YOU DON’T HAVE TO

and it wasn’t that bad. Here are my thoughts, barely edited as I wrote most of them while watching the show.

EP 1

OK i like god’s voice so far

possibilité d’embarras gastrique is a good formulation, I wonder if it’s the same in the book ( I think I kinda need to read it in french now...)

aghghdhgs « primo-délinquants »

of course subtitles don’t match the audio for a variety of technical reasons but when you get things that have very different underlying meanings i find it… not good This one about Crowley being evil / a demon : subtitles : « c’est ton travail » - « it’s your job » audio : « c’est dans ta nature » - « it’s in your nature » i mean dang

crowley sounds like a little shit asking az about his sword

« T’AS FAIT QUOUA » - he just loses his shit (kinda giving me some le coeur a ses raisons vibe)

ok crowley sounds very nerdy when he tries to explain that he took down the phone network, i think i actually like this voice acting

ligur sounds… very suave (im a little ill at ease)

crowley getting called mon chou by satan freddie mercury is a thumb up from me

i see the part where aziraphale speaks japanese wasn’t dubbed over and we can still hear michael sheen. it’s a bit disturbing considering french aziraphale has a higher pitched voice (and he sounds soooo much more anxious than sheen, give this angel a xanax )

“sandwich bœuf cresson” ( beef and cress sandwich ) deirdre really who makes this kind of sandwiches

im being reminded that the chattering nuns prepared little cut outs for their explanation about the antichrist switch… such dedication to useless crafts (it made me laugh on my first viewing and it’s still funny to imagine that some of them either ordered or built these things themselves just so they could make this two minutes long presentation for the most important act of their satanic nun careers)

retire-toi vil démon infernal, créature des abysses XD i swear az doesn’t sound even remotely convinced when he is saying the « get thee behind me foul fiend » line in french, it’s just too over the top for credibility, it sounds like it’s straight out of some super intense dnd session

they still can’t say bouillabaisse (which, like, weird because french, but still valid). nice touch is crowley couldn’t say soupe de poisson (fish stew) either and said poupe de soisson (sish ftew)

warlock mah boy how can you be a teenager and not like dinosaurs

c’est un dinosaure un nullosaure plutôt - apply burn heal

La façon dont warlock s’est exclamé « C’EST NUL » m’a fait penser au nain de naheulbeuk

the english version has nothing on french speaking aziraphale for the second hand embarrassement during the magic tour. it’s over 9000 i literally hid my head in my jumper when he was presenting harry the bunny. Horrible experience, 0/20, would not recommend

EP 2

oooh agnes has a lovely voice !

why is young newton having such a quality dub for the three sentences he has to say

dick turpin’s name is jesse james (tbf dick turpin is not known AT ALL in france, i discovered him reading good omens)

shadwell is pure chaos (as expected). No particular accent for him though, the chaotic energy was probably enough. Would have made me laugh if he had like, a chti or a marseilles accent.

aziraphale is so fucking stressed out by crowley’s driving i thought he was gonna explode

« tu es un gentil garçon » => « you’re a nice boy » said az to crowley DANG THAT’S SO INFANTILIZING AZIRAPHALE YOU’RE TALKING TO A DEMON FROM HELL NOT TO PINOCCHIO

ARGH FIRST MON ANGE OF THE SERIES i’m hit straight in the heart

anathema’s mom doesn’t have a spanish / latino accent at all when talking in spanish…. why...

dog being called toutou is definitely adorable (it’s basically « doggy » but way cuter imo)

tickety-boo has become ça gaze. that’s valid. it’s corny but i still use it unironically from time to time so ... i stan

EP 3

« je répands la fomentation » « i’m here spreading foment » « quoi tu fais des crêpes au froment ?????? » « what you’re making crêpes with wheat ??? » love the fact that we shoehorned in one more ref to crêpes

az called crowley mon cher camarade, unintentionnal communist propaganda ftw

« pas de repos pour les… bah, pour les bons » « no rest for the… good » – az was so deflated about the ineptitude he realized he was saying, he felt zero percent commited to his sentence

i was wondering how they would play aziraphale not being able to speak french in the bastille and they opted to have him stutter a bit and say to his executionner « excuse me i’m anxious » XD

« vous êtes le 999e aristo à mourir par mes soins. Mais vous êtes le premier en costume beige » « you’re the 999th aristocrat I’m going to kill, but the first one in beige attire » yeah i guess now that az isn’t english anymore his most noticeable feature is his cream aesthetic

« c’est au cas où ça tournerait en eau de boudin » « j’ADORE le boudin » => « in case it all goes pear shape » - the literal translation featuring food in french is « turning into black sausage water ». I don’t know what pear shaped inspires to english native speakers but the mere mention of boudin always make me giggle, it’s such a funny word and such a funny food

OH !!! no terrence rampa for the tv series, we’ve got anthony J. rampa. Rip terrence petit démon parti trop tôt :’(

« tu roules trop vite pour moi rampa » SERIOUSLY i know we can still infer « rouler » (here as in driving, but literally rolling) as a metaphor for their relationship but you could have said TU VAS TROP VITE that would have been so much better argh

has anathema got an emergency stock of potteries to break in case of emotionnal crisis ?

« Rampa, un démon très futé, il m’oblige à redoubler d’effort » « crowley, a very clever demon, he forces me to make double the amount of effort » oh so admitting you’re making an effort there aziraphale ? :))))))

dang i really want to know how shadwell said that major milk bottle died because not only did he die in combat but aziraphale’s reaction is a bit intense, it must have been quite a tale (this could be a crack fic prompt : «The Epic Tale of the Death Of Major Witchfinder Milk Bottle, by Sargent Witchfinder Shadwell» )

des sorcières et des phénomènes sorciéreux x)

CROWLEY CALLED AZIRAPHALE DUCON ?????? EXCUSE ME ????? #NotMyCrowley #CrowleyWouldNeverDoThat #CancelAnthonyJRampa2K20 => ducon would be an insult, the gathering of du and con, con being a very nasty but common swear word, and associating it with du- makes it extremely patronizing. it’s like « absolute pathetic digraceful moron +++ ». thanks i hate it *frowny face *

EP 4

l’apocalypse c’est pour aujourd’hui juste après le goûter : it could be translated as « apocalypse is scheduled for today right after tea time » except that « goûter » is not quite tea time but rather the little sugary snack kids take when they come back from school and that most adults drop out of (i haven’t and i’m sure az hasn’t either). thanks aziraphale for having exclusively food related notion of the time because tbh same

ligur has no right to be this sexy between ariyon bakare and his french voice actor that’s just not allowed

radio crowley’s voice vs french ligur’s voice, who has the sexiest voice : FIGHT

(jk french agnes nutter’s voice is by far the sexiest)

gender neutral doesn’t ‘quite’ exist in french but pollution has been assigned a female voice actress and masculine pronouns (i’m saying it doesn’t quite exist because officially we have no gender neutral, but it’s a serious wip among lgbt+ circles to the point where it’s started being used in a few medias)

hastur « en attendant qu’un plombier vienne » / « while waiting for a plumber to come » does hell have a special plumber unit or do demons have to call on human plumbers for their pipes damages ? Dang hastur having to call a human plumber for hell’s plumbery is another damn good writing prompt for a crack fic

Michael is called Michel in the subtitles but Michael in the audio *shrug emoji*

EP 5

to get a wiggle on has become « il faut qu’on se remue les fesses », literally « we need to shake our butts » like, yes, se remuer les fesses is a common expression to say « we need to act in order to get things done » but it really casts the image of people shaking their booty to some music and obviously crowley thinks the same Weirdly enough I have almost nothing to say for that episode. Sorry. But we’ve discovered most voice actors and actresses so far and no bit of dialogue really struck me as worth discussing or pointing fingers to mock it.

EP 6

« on va BROUTER quelques derrières » - « we’re gonna lick some butts » OK THIS IS UNQUESTIONNABLY FAR SUPERIOR IN FRENCH THAN IN ENGLISH you thought LICKING butts was good ??? you really thought that ???? AZIRAPHALE HERE SUGGESTS TO GRAZE BUTTS. TO NIBBLE THEM. TO EAT THEM. TO. MUNCH. ON. THOSE. BUTTS!!!! not just licking, guys. This is as serious step beyond licking. (oh yeah he should have said « botter » instead of brouter btw, which is really just kicking, fyi)

« moi je crois en la paix, pétasse ! » wow, language, pepper (fyi i think « pétasse » is far far worse than « bitch » even if it means roughly the same, pétasse is almost never used while bitch is rather common, so it’s a swear word +++)

Dagon sounds like she’s got a nasty cold. #GetDagonIbuprofen2K20

I can confirm that Crowley offers Aziraphale to not just stay at his place, but to move in with him. « tu peux t’installer chez moi si tu veux ». omg they were roommates.

Bad translation strikes again : i don’t know why, but the french dub doesn’t have the « tickety-boo » / « ça gaze » being referenced as Rampa / Aziraphale is being knocked down, which is… a real mistep. It was narratively significant and I’m quite mad the translators missed it.

The Jesse James explanation from Newt has become very nonsensical, instead of the neat and to the point pun « wherever I go I hold up trafic » we’re getting a circonvoluted « because it’s a crime to mechanic’s diligence ». I’m not judging that one too hard, I have no idea how to make it better, and that’s probably how it was translated in the book as well thirty years ago, but it definitely doesn’t have the same impact. On the other hand, it definitely IS a very bad joke that doesn’t even deserve a chuckle, so Anathema’s embarassement really matches the audience’s (aka mine).

OVERALL :

I wasn’t convinced by Crowley… I mean, Rampa’s voice at first, but as the nerdiness showed up it really grew on me. I still think that french dubs have often problems with some voice inflexions every here and there, and for instance in Rampa’s case it was when he was annoyed or frustrated ( at the Globe when complaining about horses and Shakespeare’s plays that aren’t comedies, and also when discussing Azirphale’s magic tricks, it’s like… there is a step between having the right amount of grumpy complaining and overdoing it that is overlooked. It’s overacted, it should have been a bit quieter imo. I don’t mean to criticize voice actors too hard either but as an audience watching french dubs this is a very recurring problem and it always feels off to me. It’s actually one of the main reasons I avoid french dubs whenever possible.)

I have a hard time judging Aziraphale’s voice dub because it clashes so much with both the idea I had formed with it when I read the book and Sheen’s delivery that I just… kinda filtered it. It was too high pitched for me, and too anxious (though for this last point I must admit it could be funny at times, but I’m not fond of this character portrayal). The rest of the cast was rather good, nothing to complain about. There wasn’t anything stellar either, but everything that needed to be conveyed was and it was professionnal. It was also very homogeneous, no voice really struck me as being way too bad or way too good compared to the others, so it was really consistant.

So I don’t have much to complain about overall despite a few wonky translations here and there, BUT there is one thing I felt very robbed of : Crowley calling Aziraphale « mon ange » happens only once, when giving a lift to Anathema, and I’m almost certain they translated it that way because otherwise the joke about Anathama mistaking them for a couple wouldn’t work. So, they were forced to make it that way. The rest of the time Crowley calls Aziraphale « l’angelot », and despite being literally translated by « little angel », it feels sarcastic more than anything else ( the « L’ » in front of « angelot » is part of the reason why, it creates some distance, the other reason being that this word in itself has a very corny vibe and people being affectionnate to each other wouldn’t use it as a term of endearment). So, that’s a shame.

I like the English dub much much MUCH better than the French, but the french wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting it to be. The voice actors and actresses were quite good, the dialogues mostly faithful and endearing despite a few really missed steps. It really had its moments. Props to brouter des derrières, that one was fantastic.

#good omens #french #french omens #tv omens #my stuff #meta #review #long post #text post #i hope you found this entertaining :)

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 3 years

Text

Another HypMic AU

Why “another”? The first one is here (and that may have influenced parts of this one).

Again, not all the specifics of this AU have been ironed out.

This one’s a world where all kinds of mythical creatures coexist with humans and, if they’re not already humanoid, can take human forms. Due to dilution of bloodlines over time, some families are mixed human/creature. The Party in this case created the division system to lead a human rebellion against the mythical creatures, although that’s hard to enforce against mythical creatures in hiding...

I like the MTR portrayals of this in particular, so I ended up drawing them (also because I keep proving I can’t draw Jakurai’s eyes decently and this is a way to circumvent that). The Hifumi in this image came out really well, I think.

Ichiro: steam dragon, a red Western-style dragon which thrives in hot temperatures, breathes fire and can be commonly found in volcanoes or other warm places.

Jiro: water dragon, a blue flightless dragon, somewhat akin to the Loch Ness monster or an aquatic dinosaur, commonly found near large bodies of water, but is not picky about temperature.

Saburo: ice dragon, a white spiky dragon which thrives in cold weather, breathes ice and has stumps for wings. The spikes can be used as projectiles, but since Saburo is a child version of this kind of dragon, the spikes haven’t fully grown in yet and so for now, he’s just an annoying kid/dragon hatchling who’s too smart for his own good.

Samatoki: centaur (a pun on the “horse” in his name). Despite the fact the equine parts of him make it hard to wear certain kinds of vintage clothing unless he fully assumes human form, he nonetheless holds a lot of pride in his status as a mythical creature. If you want to really piss him off, treat him like a horse.

Jyuto: wererabbit (again, a pun on the animal in his name, but slightly inspired by Wallace and Gromit). Mostly, this just means enhanced kick strength, enhanced senses (bar sight, which sucks even for a human) and a mild desire for carrots when in human form, although most wererabbits would also have enhanced sight.

Riou: selkie (inspired by his former occupation and the scene in Rhyme Anima episode 8). Much like the mythology goes, he’s human unless he has a seal skin. His father was the selkie in this case and he taught Riou survival cooking.

Ramuda: Frankenstein’s monster. The scientist in this case is (mainly) Rei. Essentially human, bar an uncanny ability to conduct electricity and some ice resistance from his creator.

Gentaro: ghost. Claims to specifically be the ghost of a dead author, although whether this is true has yet to be confirmed due to his lying and ability to become corporeal.

Dice: elf. As per the mythos, distinguishable via the pointy ears and a very proud but wise race. Dice is still dedicated to gambling (particularly where leprechaun gold or other treasure is involved), but is also trained in the use of a bow and nature magic...which he sometimes forgets to use in his quest for survival... (Otome is human in this AU, meaning Asuka Mikado is an elf.)

Jakurai: gorgon. Wears something to cover his eyes so he doesn’t accidentally turn anyone to stone - typically a blindfold since he can use the sight of his snakes as well as his own, although occasionally he’ll wear sunglasses. The snakes have weak venom, but are mostly quite harmless. If he ever gets into a fight, he’ll only ever use his petrification as a last resort.

Hifumi: vampire. Similar to the portrayal in Demi-chan wa Kataritai, Hifumi has all the known vampire weaknesses, but they don’t kill him outright unless a human can be killed by that cause too (he gets easily sunburnt, dislikes garlic etc.). Can turn into a bat, but sucks at being one. Took on a job as a host because it suited his lifestyle well...although any sparkles the clients see are a side effect of vampire hypnotism and they’re not really under his control.

Doppo: werewolf. Depending on how angered/courageous he’s feeling, his alternate form can end up being a dog instead of a wolf. Also has all the standard weaknesses of his kind, but won’t die from them unless a person can be dead from that cause too. Gains some animosity from his coworkers on nights with a full moon, particularly his balding boss, because it’s believed he’s ditching simply because he’s escaping responsibility.

Sasara: a kuchisake otoko. The reason his division is represented by a fan is because of the fan he uses to hide his own disfigurement (the one on his mic and/or the one he’s often portrayed holding) and this is also the reason he pursued manzai as a career - to get audiences to smile, regardless of what they look like or were thinking prior to watching Sasara at work.

Rosho: a griffin. Went searching for his own variety of treasure and that’s how he became a manzai entertainer and later, a teacher - he decided he would protect talent rather than a physical treasure (see ch. 8 of the DH & BAT manga).

Rei: ice dragon (adult). As you might expect, the steam, water and ice dragons are related (they’re each quadrupedal with long necks, although the water dragon has flippers instead of legs) which is how each Yamada brother is a different type, but Rei holds some contempt for Ichiro because that’s the only one of his offspring capable of flight.

Kuko: poison dragon, an Eastern-style dragon which somewhat resembles the dragon on his Hypnosis Speaker, although it is purple and spits poison, it’s commonly found where poisonous gases naturally occur and it’s distantly related to the steam, water and ice dragons. It’s capable of drifting on clouds, but not outright flight like the steam dragon.

Jyushi: a mummy. Uses the bandages as part of his chuunibyou delusions, although they’re not entirely necessary for human life and can be annoying to have around at times. Has extreme heat tolerance but is also prone to drying out easily, like all of his kind.

Hitoya: a leprechaun. Gained his greedy nature from his kind but his job from his brother. Still jealous of Jakurai, even though they are different types of mythical creature.

Yotsutsuji: an orphaned child who stumbled upon the secret of the mythical creatures and ended up sympathising with them. May or may not also have his own mythical creature lineage, although exactly what creature that lineage comes from is unknown. His fate is currently unknown.

Nemu: human, unlike her brother. Holds some contempt for mythical creatures, which is what caused her to join the Party.

#Hypnosis Mic #alternate universe #Hypnosis Microphone #Fanart

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fizzingwizard · 4 years

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Tumblr sucks so I had to post this twice but you should still read it because I had a lot of fun writing it xD Yamato is so easy to tease omg

Today’s Digimon Adventure: 2020 episode is entitled, “Time To Bring Back Visual Kei Bands,” because that’s pretty much where WereGarurumon belongs. I know what you’re thinking, he’s a wolf man in jeans with a kind of grungy rock n roll cowboy theme, how is that visual kei?

My friend, it’s all about the NAILS.

Those perfectly manicured, PINK freaking nails.

Tto start I’ll say this episode lowers the tension significantly compared to previous ones. That’s to be expected, and doesn’t mean it’s boring. It does a lot - it lets us confirm some things about Yamato, and a couple things about Sora and Jou in relation to him as well. It is otherwise a carbon copy of episode 8 in terms of story arc. More below as usual

So this ep is Yamato/Sora/Jou main inside a Taichi/Koushirou/Mimi sandwich.

We are starting to see more of Mimi Herself, complaining and whining about the unfairness of it all. Taichi appears to have scaled this wall by himself and Mimi’s like “YOU HAVE TOO MUCH ENERGY, YOU’LL PUT THE ENERGIZER BUNNY OUT OF A JOB, DO YOU WANT TO BE RESPONSIBLE FOR HOMELESS BUNNIES?? HE HAS TO PROVIDE FOR HIS FAMILY”

Adding salt to the wound, Koushirou then zips up the wall like this..

zip!

The good thing about Mimi is, though she’s emotional, it’s easy to lift her spirits. She’s very in the moment. And fortunate that she has a partner who is both very patient and useful in these circumstances.

wheeeeee

Meanwhile the slightly-less-energetic group has put their heads together and decided to fly first class to their destination. I would ask where they got the basket but I’m sure I’d get the same answer as Taichi’s raft from episode 4 and Jou’s pergola from episode 7: these kids are extremely good at woodcraft and speedy

(or maybe Sora just had a giant basket in her bag, which we all understand by now is really a Bag of Holding)

While airborne they are Attacked!!! by SandYanmamon and not one but two tornadoes.

Jou: Wonderful!

(for a hot second there I mistook this for Birdramon’s line and was like “??? birdramon’s unusually sarcastic today” but of course it’s the king of morbid humor kido jou)

These Kyaromon appear out of nowhere to show off their dramatic eyeliner. Work it baby

Just when you think SandYanmamon and TWO FREAKING TORNADOES are enough, turns out there’s another threat lurking below the sand for the sole purpose of reminding us yet again “Pokemon this is not!”

SandYanmamon: Aaaaaaahhh nooooooooo i had so much living left to doooo heeeelp mommyyyyyyyyy

NOT IN FRONT OF THE CHILD YOU MONSTER!!!

Cool-headed Yamato figures out that the new monster is able to track their movements under the sand. He sends the others away while he stays behind to hold off the bad guy.

The Kyaromon lead them to a cave where they meet...

ewww uuggghh noooo I hate them aaaahh make it stoppp

and also Neemon! and I’m just going to assume this is a parallel universe version of Frontier’s Neemon because it tickles me to think this is what he actually sounds and acts like and is just riding Bokumon out of pure spite

also Bearmon’s cap says “Bears.” Not bear, bears plural. I believe he’s an outcast former member of the Gummy Bears.

The Labramon look like Rainbow Brite rejects

Pictured above: First lovers’ tiff!

Neemon doesn’t know about the holy Digimon and tells the kids he is leading his group of perfectly helpless Digimon across the monster-infested desert because of the dark forces taking over everywhere. They will seek asylum with Leomon! We got our first mention of Leomon! Quick, cast your bets, how long till he dies? My guess is sooner rather than later because this seems like the kind of show that likes to kill your darlings.

Sora takes one look at this pathetic group and goes “We must go with them to protect them!” conveniently forgetting that she just got her ass kicked, but hey it’s the thought that counts

Yamato is quick to disagree.

Yamato: Did you forget that I stayed behind while you RAN AWAY? When you say let’s protect them, you mean I’M gonna be protecting them, right? RIGHT? That’s what you mean RIGHT??

(he thinks, but doesn’t say. that wouldn’t be Cool)

Yamato doesn’t want to lose sight of their mission, which is to fix things in their home world. He’s already at his limit hanging out with other human children who don’t know what they’re doing, he doesn’t want to be slowed down by freaking Bearmon. Wishy-washy Jou is like “Eh, either way sounds like death and torment to me, so...”

The interesting thing to me here is that no one’s upset. A bit surprised, I think, but Sora just stands her ground, Jou wibbles but eventually gets pumped up enough by Gomamon to decide to help her. They don’t even try much to stop Yamato from leaving which I think is what surprised me the most. I would have expected at least a vibe more like “We shouldn’t split up!” or something. If Taichi were there, maybe we’d have seen more conflict... but I’m really not sure. So far, conflict among the kids has been very low key. Even last week, the first time we saw Taichi and Yamato butt heads, to the other kids it was shocking but to a 99 Adventurer like me it was barely a kerfluffle xP

Well, anyway, the result is Sora and Jou stay with Neemon, and Yamato goes off on his own, and there is surprisingly little bad blood about any of this. They are all just getting to know each other though, so maybe that loyalty’s not quite expected yet.

Same as episode 8, Gabumon hints that there’s more to Yamato’s behavior than he lets on. He’s not just coldly abandoning his friends... except that he totally is >_> (As an adult, I don’t exactly think Yamato is wrong. I’d be more likely to agree with him than the others probably xP But these are children in a show for children, so Protecting Others and Following Your Feelings get a boost over cool rationale.)

Gabumon says Yamato should open up to the other kids. YEAH RIGHT. Yamato says “You’re all I need.” AWWWWWWWWW this wont backfire on them in a way that will wrench out my heart and tear it to a million pieces in forty episodes or so, no way

Ikkakumon becomes a Sand Boat while Birdramon covers the sky. At first I was like “hey! not a bad plan!” If they can help Neemon’s group get across the desert faster, it will be a big help even if they can’t take them further.

Of course, first they have to deal with the SandYanmamon.

Ikkakumon: Why does everyone go straight for the horn!?!

Oh, and also the two tornadoes.

Sora, standing on Birdramon’s leg: don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down

And now Sora’s on fire! That is it, I’m headcanoning it that the kids are basically invulnerable as long as they are touching their partners. THERE’S JUST NO EXPLAINING THIS

The flaming elementary school child does well until her partner is snared by the same monster from before, who turns out to be Scorpiomon. But this ain’t your momma’s Scorpimon from 99 Adventure, who was really Anomalocarimon but that was too hard to expect kids to say. This is the real Scorpiomon who is much scarier.

All of a sudden, from above!

ACTION LINES!!!

Yamato and Garurumon, both physically incapable of doing anything normally when there is a cooler, more awesome method available, drop into the battle from the air and start burning shit up.

They stand, bodies licked by blue flame, piercing eyes bright with the fever of battle, the sound of swooning fan girls echoing into the night

Garurumon does his best but Scorpiomon is a level higher so, duh, he doesn’t stand much of a chance. WHAT WILL OUR HERO DO.

Well, first, same as in episode 8, he flashes back to each of his newfound friends, gaining strength from their memory. Yamato is so sentimental it Hurts

Then his mind flashes to someone else...

... his favorite bobble head doll. No wait, that’s his round-headed baby brother, Charlie Brown.

he is infused with the power of Friendship!!!!!!!

Garurumon: What... is this feeling... so passionate... so... powerful... FFFRIENDSHIPPPPPP IS MAGIC

He then evolves into a brony into a furry in the coolest freakiest way he knows how.

WereGarurumon is basically everything the creators thought little boys like besides dinosaurs (because Taichi’s got that one covered) thrown together to make the ultimate little boy dream action figure: wolves, leather, hardware, piercings, brass knuckles, belts, skulls, scars, dog tags, and fuchsia stiletto nails

Ikkakumon: Sugoi... so shiny... oooh... blinding me...

WereGarurumon kicks Scorpiomon’s ass, it’s a cool battle scenes complete with kicks so fast his foot appears detached from his body. He then gives Yamato thumbs up.

Yamato: With nails like those the brass knuckles are kind of overkill...

Yamato dodges apologizing for going off on his own like that by saying he only came back because it’d be useful to him to have the others around as a decoy. Jou’s like FRIGGING DECOYS AGAIN??

But his dedication to remaining cool and aloof falters and he ends up telling them he’s just extra pressured to get their mission handled because he has a little brother, Takeru, living in Tokyo who is probably very scared stuck in the blackout. Sora and Jou are like “Oh, that makes sense, that’s why you’re so high strung.” They don’t point out the obvious, which is that they also have families affected by the blackout... >_>

Jou passionately thanks Yamato for being so forthcoming so early in the season and looks forward to telling Yamato about himself in the future.

The others: “But we already know all about you.”

Jou: “But HE doesn’t!”

xD look forward to it, Yamato...

It’s episode 11 and Yamato can already smile like this... I had to cap it.

Yamato: Ahh, I’m finally getting used to wearing this purple shirt. Still can’t get quite suppress the urge to cut off the sleeves though...

The other slice of bread completes our sandwich when we shoot back briefly to Taichi/Koushirou/Mimi’s group.

Taichi gets annoyed with Koushirou for the first time because of how much time Koushirou spends taking pictures of everything. Koushirou is that kid on the museum field trip who holds up the entire class reading every last word on the exhibit plaques while everyone else groans ‘cmon dude I wanna get to the dinosaurs before we go extinct too!!’

fyi I, Fizzing Wizard, was and am that slow ass kid

Mimi’s even more impatient than Taichi and in her boredom she starts touching things, because she’s never seen The Mummy.

IT’S A TRAP!!!

lol

Next ep’s trailer includes:

Andromon!!!

And Lillymon!!!

Oprah voice: You get a Perfect level and you get a Perfect level and you get a Perfect level and you get-

Yeah so, clearly everyone’s gonna get to Perfect level much quicker than in 99 Adventure, which again, it’s good they’re mixing things up. The question is, what’s next? My guess is down the line everyone will get Ultimate levels and of course, at some point we’ll see Omegamon. I wonder if there will be other Jogress possibilities? Just because it’s hard to believe evolution will stop being important, but if they’re going through both Adult and Perfect so fast it doesn’t leave much left for the rest of the season...

I give this ep a 5.5/10 for being basically a remix of episode 8, and I’m looking forward to getting new stuff for Yamato eventually. Next week’s looking to be Mimi-centric if Lillymon’s any indication, but I’ve got my fingers crossed for a few Taishiro moments anyway.

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure reboot #digimon psi #psi spoilers #digimon #fizz watches digimon 2020

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artcenterstories · 3 years

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Experience Seeker: Meet Artist/Author Dominick Domingo

ArtCenter: What inspired your current creative project? Dominick Domingo (Illustration ‘91) arist/author/designer: A prolonged hospital stay and the proverbial brush with death. Being in touch with my mortality has lit a fire creatively and put legacy at the forefront. My latest IP, mythic fiction novel The Seeker is a parable of my recent trials and a portrait of all I’ve learned about the spiritual journey we are all on.

AC: What have been some of the most memorable twists and turns in your professional/creative journey after graduating ArtCenter? DD: A month after graduation, I began work at Disney Feature Animation on a small film to later known as Lion King. Having interned there between fourth and fifth terms, I visually developed the film during preproduction, then went on to paint production backgrounds. I continued on with Disney Feature for 11 years, in L.A. and Paris, painting backgrounds and creating visual development art for Pocahontas, Hunchback of Notre Dame, Tarzan, Little Match Girl and One By One.

I then attended New York Film Academy and began making independent live-action films as an auteur. My films won awards in the festival circuit and garnered distribution. Original screenplay credits on SAG/IMDB films led me to put my lifelong love of writing on the front-burner, while keeping one foot in animation by freelancing for major companies like Mirada, Blue Sky, Dreamworks TV, Nickelodeon, Disney Interactive, etc. The electives I offered for 20 years at my alma mater, ArtCenter, became the foundation of what has diverged into today’s Entertainment Arts and Entertainment Design tracks.

My essays and short stories have been included in anthologies and collections, some winning awards (most recently Writer’s Digest 2020 and Craft Literary 2020). My young adult trilogy, The Nameless Prince, launched in 2012 through Twilight Times Books. The Seeker marks my debut in the mythic fiction-meets-visionary fiction genre. I’ve had the good fortune of crafting a career that spans various formats and genres, all expressions of a drive I consider essential to the human condition: storytelling.

AC: What’s been the most unexpected or valuable takeaway from your ArtCenter education? DD: I am grateful for the ArtCenter legacy of excellence, and its stellar reputation in the fields of art and design; both have served me well. The demanding program and high expectations of instructors like Gary Meyer, David Mocarski, Jon Conrad, Harry Carmean and Burne Hogarth taught me to strive for excellence, believe in my potential, and push boundaries. At ArtCenter I learned nothing less than the art of alchemy and manifestation, to co-create with the universe and use my authentic gifts to contribute to our collective transformation.

AC: What’s the one tool you can’t do without? DD: My imagination. Like many artists, I consider myself a storyteller with different modes of expression. Whether editing a film in Final Cut, modeling in Maya or SketchUp during visual development or painting concepts in Photoshop, the common denominator is my imagination! My fingers come in pretty handy as well. And my eyeballs.

AC: What design cliché are you most tempted to use? DD: In my teaching, I've heard myself say, "Know the rules before you break them!" With regard to figurative and representational work, I am a big fan of buckling down and applying the discipline to master foundational principles at the outset. Whether Chevreul’s laws of color theory or Gestalt studies, internalizing theory with the faith it will become second nature is precisely what eventually allows one to take risks and explore. In developing one’s authentic voice, a framework of regiments and a clear vision can, in the end, free up the intuition to orchestrate magic that may not occur if one is struggling with technique or "finding one’s way…"

AC: What’s the first site you look at when you open your computer in the morning? DD: I tend to check e-mail and (UGH) Facebook first. But NEVER before putting caffeine in me and getting a change of scenery. As a long time freelancer/independent contractor, I like to get a walk in and listen to inspirational content (blogs or podcasts) before settling in front of the computer. Novelty is crucial for the ol’ dendrites and for brain plasticity!

AC: If you could trade jobs for a day with anyone, who would it be? DD: Pretty much anyone at Laika, as I would kill or die to get in there. I love their brand, its spirit, and the content they produce. As a kid who once knew every dinosaur that ever walked the earth and the period in which it lived (although they’ve changed them all), I'm often baffled I did not make every attempt to work with Stan Winston on Jurassic Park. I guess I was busy at Disney, but I often kick myself as that ship has clearly sailed… Also, Peter Jackson — he is living my dream!

AC: What books are on your bedside table? DD: Rather than imposing my recommendations (like "all artists should read Letters to a Young Poet or all humans should read The Alchemist,) I will give an honest answer: I don’t have a bedside table. However, on my coffee table currently: The Kybalion, Giant, 12 Years a Slave, and Jane Fonda’s autobiography, My Life So Far. Jane is an inspiration: the fact that she still gives a damn and gets up every morning and walks the walk. I also admire her tackling ageism head on, the societal ill I am most passionate about rectifying at over half-a-century. As a writer, I read a wide variety of genres. Neil Gaiman, Junot Díaz, Davy Rothbart, David Sedaris and Augusten Burroughs are also huge influences.

AC: What is your prized possession? DD: I have two. One is an amazing painting titled The Three Muses painted by the formidable John Watkiss, with whom I worked on Disney’s Tarzan and who has since passed. The other is the traditional animation desk I had commissioned in the '90s using Disney’s patented design. There was one architect in the world with the Mouse’s blessing to use the patented design. But none of that is what makes it a prized possession — the reason is this: I nearly lost it in a fire. But unbeknownst to me, rather than taking the charred thing to the dump as discussed, my father secretly took it home and brought it back from the dead. Refurbished every bit of charred wood, every molding, right down to the laminate and the proper finish. Like new.

AC: What’s your best piece of advice for an ArtCenter student who’s interested in following your career path? DD: Remember why you do what you do. There are plenty of times in life when we must keep our noses to the grindstone and work can feel like drudgery. But inspired work energizes — the opposite of drudgery. Whatever is paying the bills, I would be sure it’s something that contributes to your personal transformation on the micro level and to our collective evolution on the macro. The artistic journey is lifelong: We may find our authentic voice, but it’s ever-evolving. I would encourage all artists to take stock now and then, and assess whether that voice has been married with a sense of purpose. And whether that purpose contributes to the dialectic of our human potential!

#artcenter #entertainment desgin #entertainment #design #dominick domingo

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onewfantaesy · 4 years

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Wizard Boys AU

The first time Jinki’s friends have their weekly beer night at someone else’s house, all the kids are brought along. The kids range from ages five to sixteen, with Taemin and Jongin being the youngest and Heechul being the oldest. Except Taemin is used to staying with Jinki the entire time, had even brought a whole bag full of gummy worms and fruit snacks and stickers, and was very upset when he was told he needed to stay with the other kids.

“But I wanna play poker,” Taemin whines, sniffling and hanging off Jinki’s arm.

Yunho, who’s hosting this week, just smirks and crouches down and gives Taemin’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Why don’t you go ask Changmin if he’ll play?” Yunho suggests. “I bet him and Heechul and Donghae and Eunhyuk will all play poker with you.”

Except Taemin is still very shy and he’s pouting and clinging to Jinki even though he can hear Jongin laughing and playing in the other room.

“I bet you could beat all of them,” Yunho whispers, as if it’s a great secret. It makes Taemin giggle a little bit. Yunho is his favorite of Jinki’s friends. “Come on, lets go ask them.”

Taemin, after a moment of hesitation, takes Yunho’s hand and is led into the room where the kids are all already playing and goofing around and talking.

“I see you’ve all met Kibum and Minho,” Yunho says, looking to where the twins are playing marbles with Chanyeol and Baekhyun. “And this is Taemin.”

“The poker kid?” Changmin asks, laughing.

It makes Taemin squeak and move to hide behind Yunho’s leg. There’s too many other kids staring at him. It’s making him nervous, even if Jongin does come over to tug at his hand and try to get him to play.

“Yes, the poker kid,” Yunho laughs. “And he really wants to play poker tonight. He even brought his best bargaining chips.”

“We’ll play you,” Changmin tells Taemin, and he goes over to a coffee table to move everything off and clear a space. “Come sit. I’ll shuffle.”

“Be nice. Don’t let the littles drink too much juice. We’ll come get you when the barbecue is ready,” Yunho says, lightly pressing Taemin forward so he can go sit with the older boys at the coffee table. Then he goes out into the back where the grown up wizards are barbecuing and drinking beer and discussing what to sell at the local market.

“So you think you’re a little big shot, huh?” Heechul teases the kindergartener sitting across from him. “Well now you’re playing with the big kids.”

“Taemin’s great at poker,” Kibum says in snarky voice. “He’ll probably beat all of you.”

Meanwhile, Taemin is sitting on his knees and dumping his bag of gummies and stickers on the table to bet with. It makes the older kids all laugh a little, because the two little kidnergarteners look so serious about this being legitimate betting currency. The oldest boys all play along, they sort out the chosen betting chips between the five of them playing, and Changmin deals.

“Juice,” Taemin requests, holding one hand out while he looks at his cards. It’s quite a sight, and Kibum is quick to give him an apple juice from the cooler.

It’s the beginning of a very quick domination of Taemin’s part. Donghae and Eunhyuk are out entirely after just a few rounds, having lost all their chips between Taemin and Heechul. Changmin is just barely staying afloat, and he’s entirely confused as to how a shy little five year old is beating everyone so easily.

“‘Nother juice,” Taemin demands for the third time. “Blue punch!”

His lips are turning a dark blue, and so is his tongue. He’s apparently never had blue punch before, it was something new that he quickly became obsessed with. All of the little kids were huddled around Taemin, excited to see someone finally beat the bigger kids at a game.

But then just before a new hand is dealed, Taemin hunches over the table, staring hard at a blue and pink sour gummy worm, and he looks at Changmin with very big eyes.

“Can I have one of my gummy worms?” he asks softly, his lips being sucked in between his teeth.

“Sure,” Changmin agrees.

Taemin grins and giggles and pulls the gummy worm in half, giving the blue half to Jongin and then eating the pink half himself.

“Kay,” he says, still chewing. “M’ready now.”

Changmin is out after that round. Now it’s just Taemin and Heechul. The three other big kids are huddled around Heechul, and the five other little kids are huddled around Taemin. It’s very intense.

“Let’s make this more interesting,” Chanyeol suggests, smirking. “If Taeminnie wins, we get to play any game we want and you can’t say no.”

Changmin narrows his eyes.

“Fine,” he snaps. “But if Heechul wins, you all sit quietly and don’t bother us for the rest of the night.”

“Fine,” Chanyeol snaps back.

“Hey,” Taemin whines, pouting at all of them. “But what do I get?”

“Well what do you want?” Heechul asks. “You don’t want to pick any game to play next?”

Taemin shrugs, because he had thought he’d just play with Jongin after poker was over.

“We’ll let you drink as much fruit punch as you want,” Heechul suggests. “And I’ll give you my dessert.”

“DEAL!”

They shake on it, Taemin giggling a bit at how dramatically Heechul swings their arms up and down, and then goes back to his cards.

Eventually, Taemin pushes all his chips in, save for one sour gummy worm.

“Why just one?” Heechul scoffs.

“So I can eat it just in case,” Taemin tells him.

Heechul just thinks it’s cute.

Until he loses spectacularly.

All the little kids are cheering and running around, and he big kids are groaning and pushing Heechul around. Taemin just smiles and pulls all his winnings towards him.

In absolutely no time at all, the other kids are running around and the big kids are trying to reign them in, but Taemin and Jongin are just sitting on the floor with blue fruit punch, eating gummies, and putting stickers all over each other. Taemin has one on each cheek and all over his arms, Jongin has one in his forehead and nose and left cheek and also all over his shirt.

“You count cards, don’t you?” Heechul accuses, going to sit down next to them.

“Whazzat mean?” Taemin asks, sticking another sticker to Jongin’s hand and giggling.

“You guess what cards have already been used and what’s coming next,” Heechul says.

Taemin only shrugs.

“Close your eyes,” Taemin demands, looking at Heechul.

“Why?”

“Please?”

Heechul sighs and closes his eyes, then feels a little poke on his cheek before he hears two little giggles. When he opens his eyes, Taemin and Jongin are both giggling and grinning at him.

“Wanna gummy?” Taemin asks, holding up a fruit snack.

“Thank you,” Heechul laughs, taking the offered gummy.

Heechul goes to look in a mirror and sees a smiley face sticker on his cheek. He leaves it for now. It’s cute. Taemin and Jongin spend a good few minutes going to the big kids (because they thought they were sad from losing) and feeding them gummies.

Taemin and Jongin also put stickers on Changmin’s face when he comes over to try and figure out how Taemin is so good at poker.

“Are you using magic?” Changmin asks.

Taemin shrugs.

“You need more stickers,” Taemin says instead, putting a little green dinosaur in the tip of Changmin’s nose. It makes the two kindergarteners giggle relentlessly, both of their lips and tongues dark blue from the obscene amount of blue fruit punch they’ve been allowed to drink.

That’s when Yunho comes to tell them that dinner is ready, but he becomes very annoyed when it’s become clear that the older kids hadn’t controlled the amount of juice that was distributed.

“I said don’t let the littles have more than three juices,” Yunho says, going over to the very giggly, very silly-acting Taemin and Kai. “Oh my God, your tongues are entirely blue! How much did you drink?”

“A lot,” Taemin says, giggling. Then he puts a star sticker on Yunho’s cheek and giggles madly, Jongin following suit.

“You’re both covered in stickers,” Yunho laughs. “I take it you won the poker game?”

“Uh-huh!” Taemin nods. “And they bet juice! So I can drink as much as I want.”

“Well I’m cutting you off,” Yunho says, still smiling even though he’s annoyed the older kids made such a bet. “Come on, boys. Let’s get some real food in you.”

He carries both of the littlest boys out to the back, and the other kids all follow behind. Taemin spends the entire time eating dinner on Jinki’s lap, Jongin sitting between them and Suho, and they tell them all about how Taemin beat the big kids.

“He counts cards!”

“He uses magic!”

The adults all just think it’s funny the older kids are trying to come up with excuses for being beat by a five-year-old. Taemin just thinks it’s fun.

“Can we play again next week?” Taemin asks, hanging off Heechul’s leg when they’re getting ready to leave.

“Why do you wanna play poker again?” Heechul laughs. “Because you won?”

“It’s fun.”

Taemin is just smiling, his face still covered in stickers. It makes him even happier to see the sticker still in Heechul’s cheek.

#taemin #shinee #onew #key #minho #wizard boys au

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coloringboooks · 3 years

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Best collection of coloring pages online!

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#coloring #coloring pages #coloring book #coloring by me #blogging #blogger #bloggen #drawing #draweveryday

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

If You Ever Wanna Be in Love (I'll Come Around), Chapter Five (Branjie) - Athena2

Previously: Brooke and Vanessa’s night of babysitting turned into them kissing Now: They both deal with the aftermath and find themselves pulled together once again

A/N:Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback and comments you’ve been giving this fic! They really do mean a lot to me and I appreciate them all. It would be great if you could leave some on this chapter as well. Thank you so much to Writ for betaing and helping me out with this chapter, you’re the best.

“I kissed Brooke,” Vanessa blurts to A’keria. Saying it makes it real, proves it wasn’t a dream or hallucination. It really happened, and Vanessa knows it doesn’t mean anything, but her lips are still tingling.

“What the hell happened?” A’keria asks.

“We were babysitting, and her niece chanted for us to kiss and…yeah.” Shit, it sounds lame like that. But on that rug, with the sunset illuminating every inch of Brooke’s face, her cheeks glowing, it was almost…magical. Almost real. It’s not, though. It barely lasted five seconds. Vanessa kissed her abuela longer than that as a kid, scrubbing sticky lipstick off her cheek after.

“Damn. One six-year-old is all it took.” A’keria mutters.

Vanessa swats at her. “Hey! She was loud enough for the whole building to hear, okay? We had to!”

A’keria rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she really forced you. Who would win, two adult clowns or a first-grader? Not you, apparently.”

“You calling me a clown?”

“You and Brooke. Might as well open up a circus.”

Vanessa groans. “It was just so the kids would quiet down. She’s gonna be my fake wife at the carnival to shut Paul up some more, and that’s it.”

But does Vanessa want that to be it? That can be the end of the fake-wives-and-girlfriends thing, but Vanessa knows she doesn’t want it to be the end of their friendship. She can’t lose Brooke in her life, laughing at work stories and sending each other selfies, someone who just gets her, who didn’t ask her to change anything.

They were thrown right into the fire at first, forced to act married. But things have slowed since then, the intense blaze now a cozy fireplace warmth, with more of Brooke unraveling before Vanessa’s eyes. How sweet she was around her family. How she sends Vanessa pictures of dogs she sees. How excited she was after realizing she made mac and cheese. And the kiss–but Vanessa’s not thinking about that.

“If you say so.”

“We’re friends. Not every relationship has to be romantic.”

“No, they don’t,” A’keria agrees. “But if your feelings for her go beyond friendship, I don’t think you should deny that.”

Vanessa shrugs. She’ll deal with that when–and if–she has to.

—

“Hytes!”

The men on the museum board favor last names for address and Brooke can’t argue without being called whiny. She snaps her head up, trying to focus. Her brain is a slow computer with too many tabs open, pinging between guests and her speech and kissing Vanessa—

“Yes, Greg?”

Ugh. Greg. He hadn’t believed Brooke was department head the first time they met, had called the museum director to accuse her of lying. The resulting pride that erupted in her after Greg found out that Brooke is, in fact, department head, had left a stream of tension between them at every board meeting.

“Check with the guests for the T-Rex opening again. Some are major donors, so we need them.”

Brooke nods wearily. So much of the museum came down to donors, and she knows it’s important, but she wishes this entire exhibit opening didn’t have to fall on her. But her shoulders are more than strong enough to carry it.

“Unfortunately, with the expenses of the T-Rex,” Greg continues, “Your department might face cuts if this doesn’t go well.”

The words slice at Brooke’s stomach. “Cuts?” she demands. “But funding got cut last year–”

“Then you’ll just have to do well, won’t you?”

Brooke nods. She could punch Greg, but she has to channel that energy into this exhibit instead. She can’t face more budget cuts. She cried after letting Ariel the intern go last year, and she won’t lose Plastique this year. Cuts would also mean less events and kids programs. How many kids like her come through those doors and gain a new passion for paleontology? How many find a safe space, or realize they’re not alone? How many dream of ages past as they walk through the rooms?

Brooke won’t let them down.

All she wants is to text Vanessa after, to rant with someone who knows that higher-up board-member nonsense. Vanessa said that one racist library board member told her ‘someone like her’ didn’t even belong in a library, and Brooke just wanted to hold Vanessa and comfort her. Now, selfish as it is, she wants Vanessa, because somehow Vanessa has come to mean comfort to Brooke. She writes a text asking Vanessa for coffee and freezes.

Vanessa doesn’t need Brooke’s problems weighing her down. She knows how caring and empathetic Vanessa is, how she takes on the feelings of others, hurts when her friends are and sad when a kid at the library cries. Makes it her mission to cheer them all up. Brooke loves it about her, but she can see Vanessa caring too much and getting stressed, and she won’t let Vanessa do that. They’re friends, and they share things, but this seems too big, something Brooke wouldn’t want anyone to carry with her. She won’t hurt Vanessa with it.

She deletes the text.

—

Vanessa hovers outside Brooke’s office. Something’s up with Brooke. Her replies have been short and half-hearted all week, and though it could be nothing, and she knows she has no right to expect essay-length texts from Brooke, she knows in her gut something’s wrong.

Vanessa finally knocks, and the Brooke that greets her isn’t unlike normal Brooke. But Vanessa looks closer, for things she would have missed before but are obvious to her now. Brooke’s eyes are dull, rimmed with dark circles. Her hair is messier than normal, like she’s been tearing her hands through it. And then she sees Brooke’s hands, usually so sturdy and clever and quick. They’re trembling a little, just enough for Vanessa to see. She has to restrain herself from grabbing those hands, running her thumb over the smooth skin until Brooke is calm.

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa asks.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” She can see the wheels spinning in Brooke’s mind, the worry in her eyes. She’s seen Brooke nervous before, but this is different. This is tense and stressed Brooke, trying and failing to keep her professional put-togetherness, and it hurts Vanessa’s heart. Vanessa puts her hands on her hips, daring Brooke to lie again.

Brooke sighs. “It’s the exhibit. I need to make sure all the donors are coming, and if there’s not a good turnout my department might lose funding, so everything…everything has to be perfect.” She takes a deep breath, and Vanessa wonders how long she’s been holding that in, letting it poison her.

“Perfect’s a lot to ask,” she says softly.

“I can do it. It has to be,” Brooke says simply, and Vanessa wonders how many times perfection’s been asked of her before, how many times she’s worked herself into the ground to deliver it.

“Who said? That asshole Greg?” She’s heard enough from Brooke to know Greg is not someone she wants to meet.

Brooke nods weakly, and all Vanessa wants is to smooth that wrinkle between her eyebrows.

“Can I help with anything?”

“I don’t think so. I just have to wait for replies. And finish my speech–” she grabs notecards off her desk, “–which is horrible.”

“I’ll listen to it! No arguing,” she says when Brooke protests. “Read it.”

Brooke does, talking about how great it was to bring the skull here and the importance of museums. It’s a good speech, one that’ll have rich people opening their checkbooks. But something’s missing–that breathless, childlike passion Brooke has when she talks about dinosaurs, the excited inner child that comes through in her smile. Brooke is going for cool and professional, and it’s good, but it’s not her. At least, not the Brooke Vanessa knows.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Vanessa says gently, “But can you make it less formal? A little more fun, more like you?”

“That’s how I had it the first time,” Brooke admits. “I just–”

“You wanted it to be perfect,” Vanessa finishes. “But it’s perfect when it’s like you too, you know.”

Brooke smiles, and Vanessa knows she’s gotten through to her. “Thank you, Ness.”

Vanessa wrinkles her nose. “Ness?”

“That’s what Sophie calls you. I kinda like it.”

“Okay, Brookie.”

Brooke swats at her playfully, and Vanessa drops into Brooke’s desk chair. Her desk is neat, of course, littered with tiny dinosaur figures and pens in a C-3PO mug. She smiles at pictures of Brooke on fossil digs, in graduation robes, giving presentations.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes, dino expert.” Vanessa shoots a horrible imitation of Brooke into her desk phone.

“I don’t sound like that!”

“Sure you do.”

“‘Sure you do,’” Brooke mimics in a raspy voice that Vanessa admits is accurate. She could sit here all day, but lunch is almost over.

“I gotta go, but take a break,” Vanessa orders. “I know you’re working too hard.”

Brooke nods, and her smile loops in Vanessa’s head all day.

—

Brooke types the last sentence of her speech, sitting back in awe. Her speech for the opening of a special exhibit, a childhood dream come true. It hadn’t been easy to get here. There were the doubtful years of college when Brooke learned paleontology was a lot more than digging up bones, when professors–usually male–approached her in lectures and asked if she had the right room, maybe you’re looking for the teaching department, sweetie? There was the struggle of needing a perfect application for one of only a few internships, the job prospects that made her toss and turn at night, wondering if she should go the teaching route, suck it up and teach earth science to bored college kids needing an elective. And then those first bones shone through the dirt, glittering under the Montana sun, and Brooke had known that this was all she ever wanted.

She reaches for her phone to tell Vanessa. It’s strange—Brooke never would’ve thought of sharing this with anyone, would’ve just kept it to herself. Another day at work. But she’s done it, and all she wants is for Vanessa to know, to share it with her. Lately she’s sharing more and more with Vanessa, from funny memes or restaurant recommendations to the book of Mary Oliver poems she’s going to give Vanessa as a thank you for helping with the speech. She loves when Vanessa sends stuff back, selfies of her in a witch hat, or pictures of crafts she’s done. The fact that Vanessa did something like tiny She-Ra swords and thought of Brooke, wants her to experience it too, makes Brooke warm and fuzzy inside.

There’s a missed call from her mom, and Brooke calls her back first, trying to calm her heart. There’s no reason to think anything bad happened, she reminds herself.

“Mom?” Brooke asks hesitantly.

“Brooke!” She’s too cheerful to report bad news, and Brooke relaxes. “Your dad and I were wondering if you and Vanessa want to come for dinner some time?”

Shit. “Um–”

“We’d love to see her again.”

“I’d have to check.”

It’s not fair to ask Vanessa again. The agreement was one work dinner and one family party, but they’ve strayed so far from that Brooke doesn’t know where they stand anymore. Brooke planned to say they broke up if her mom asked. She never thought her parents would like Vanessa so much. But she should have expected it, because who doesn’t love Vanessa seconds after meeting her?

“Well, I hope so.” Her mother’s voice is so loving that Brooke’s guilt burns hotter. “Vanessa’s such a good fit for you. You’re so happy around her.”

It’s not real! Brooke wants to yell, and she almost tells her mom the truth. But that would crush her, crush the person who always wanted Brooke to be happy. The person who brought her to the park and coaxed her to join the other kids, even though Brooke was too nervous to ask for her turn on the monkey bars and sat under the slide instead, dreaming of worlds where she wasn’t told to come out of her shell. Who brought her to museums and science camps and encouraged her to keep going in college. Who tried to find women for Brooke to date after she came out, wanting her to have someone she could be happy with.

How could she disappoint her mom like that?

She swallows the lump in her throat. “I-I’ll check, Mom, okay?”

“Okay, honey. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Brooke sighs, shrugging out the tension in her shoulders. She needs the big guns for this one.

—

“I don’t know what to do, Nina.” Brooke burrows herself deeper into Nina’s couch and takes another sip of wine. “Everything’s a mess.”

Nina occupies the couch’s other end, just like their college days, giggling on a cramped twin bed. Brooke wishes they were back in that freezing cinder-block room, where her biggest concerns were finding edible dining hall food and finishing homework and herding drunk Nina, who just wanted to re-enact every Disney movie ever, into bed. Not the absolute disaster things have become. One little lie. One little lie to stop endless questions about dating, the well-meant hopes that she’ll find the one. Now, the lie is a skyscraper about to collapse in front of her, and all she has to mend it is duct tape.

What was she thinking, agreeing to this? One smile from Vanessa and she was gone, fake ring on her finger and knees touching on her parents’ couch like teenagers, watching movies and bringing coffee and texting nonstop. Now she has to break her mom’s heart and tell her they broke up, or do the act all over, pretend to be in love again, and then what? They keep doing this for the rest of their lives?

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Nina says finally. “You said Vanessa liked your parents, so why not ask her?”

“Because where does it end? We do this again, my mom loves Vanessa more, she keeps asking to see her. I’m supposed to ask Vanessa to do this for every birthday and holiday and whatever? Next thing you know we’re spending Christmas there–”

“Brooke.”

“–And my mom loves weddings. There hasn’t been one since my sister’s so she’ll start asking about that–”

“Brooke.”

“–Then we’ll have a fake wedding, and what if she starts asking about kids? Oh my God, I’m gonna have to kidnap a child and they’ll make a Lifetime movie about me—“

“Brooke! Breathe, okay?”

Brooke realizes how fast the words are tumbling out, how little she’s breathing. She forces a deep breath, willing her lungs to accept the air. Nina pats her shoulder gently, and Brooke nods that she’s okay.

“I think you should just ask Vanessa,“ Nina continues. “There’s plenty of time to figure things out after. You can tell your mom you broke up later.”

“But it’s not fair to keep asking Vanessa. And the longer this goes on, the more it’ll crush my mom when it’s over. It’s easier to end it now, before she really gets attached to Vanessa.”

It’s not just her mom, Brooke realizes. The more they do this, the closer Brooke gets with Vanessa, and the more it will hurt when it ends. Vanessa has become one of her favorite people, and she can’t lose their friendship. What if asking Vanessa to do this again ruins it?

“Honey, I get that. Vanessa did ask you to the carnival though, so maybe she won’t mind going to your parents’ again? It’s one more event each way, so it’s not totally unfair.”

Brooke shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Don’t forget yourself either,” Nina says. It’s familiar, something’s Brooke’s heard since they were eighteen and Nina made sure sleeping and eating didn’t get sacrificed to Brooke’s studying. “You can’t keep fake dating just to please people.”

Brooke nods. “You’re right, Nina. How’d you get so smart?”

“Just born that way, I guess.” Nina sips wine with a smug smile. “And I want a lead role in the Lifetime movie.”

—

The carnival grows closer, and preparation is in full swing. There’s a running tally, currently at seven, of how many game booths Yvie’s told off on the phone for not following safety rules. There’s the list of food trucks Vanessa and Silky assembled from their personal rankings, plus a new Greek one Brooke told her about. There’s Nina and A’keria’s practice sheets of face paint designs, from fierce tigers to questionable butterflies.

Aside from the kids, this is what Vanessa likes best about her job–having different activities to do, things that let her be creative and not have to sit still at a desk like she did in school, or spend hours refolding the same shirts like when she did retail. She can run outside to test paper airplanes for a craft, or arrange displays, or help kids with homework, and maybe that’s why she never wanted another job. What other job would let her have this much fun?

The added bonus is that it distracts her from Brooke and dinner with her parents. She shouldn’t need distracting from Brooke, but try telling her brain that after seeing Brooke in a fire-engine red skirt the other day, the fabric wrapped around her legs like a second skin. Not to mention the fact that she kissed Brooke pops into her head at random moments, and she can still feel those soft lips against hers.

Is there something more to her feelings? But they’ve been faking a relationship, and that’s bound to rub off. How many movie co-stars got together after playing love interests? Not that she and Brooke are exactly movie stars, but hey, their performance was convincing. Sure, she talks on the phone with Brooke for hours at night, just like high school minus the tether of the phone cord, and brought her cookies once, but those don’t have to be romantic. The speeding up of her heart around Brooke, the way she’s drawn close to her like a magnet, how her eyes can’t leave Brooke when they’re together, aren’t anything either.

So having dinner with Brooke’s parents again shouldn’t be a big deal. If this were a real relationship, a second parent meeting would be much more serious, requiring Vanessa to wear her best dress and bring fancy wine. But they’ve already passed the test, and it’s just dinner. Brooke is nervous, she knows, never planned things to get this far and felt awful for asking, but Vanessa gets it. If the situation was reversed, she doubts she could crush her mom, always on lookout for girls Vanessa can date, like that either.

And she did ask Brooke to the carnival, which wasn’t part of the agreement. Another dinner isn’t unfair. One more dinner, and Brooke will end things on her side, and Vanessa will go back to saying her wife is sick when parties come up. Vanessa hates to think of Brooke’s parents being upset they broke up, but she can do it.

A’keria’s wrong. She’s not in love with Brooke.

At least, she doesn’t think so.

—

Dinner is just them and Brooke’s parents, and Vanessa lets herself go. They want to know more about her, and she tells stories of summers at the beach as a kid, sand clinging to her legs as she built sand castles with her mom, how she and brother splashed for hours, how her dad hoisted her on his shoulders to watch the nightly fireworks. She talks about her college roommate Shea–they kissed once, incidentally, but Vanessa leaves that out–and how they threw a party on the dorm roof. She talks about the time she, Silky, and A’keria misread the recipe and made 30 pancakes instead of 15 and passed them around the apartment building.

Everyone laughs, and it’s hard not to love this, not to want this. A girlfriend like Brooke with her nice family, who reminds Vanessa of her own family even if they’re nowhere near as chaotic. Talking about memories must spur something in Brooke’s mom, because after dessert she pulls them in the living room and whips out a photo album.

“Here’s Brooke as a baby,” Brooke’s mom says, and Vanessa melts, her heart damn near exploding at baby Brooke, wrapped snugly in a white blanket patterned with pink hearts. Her hair is lighter than it is now, almost white-blonde, but her smile is exactly the same. Her eyes are wide and shining with joy.

“Here she is in kindergarten.”

There’s five-year-old Brooke outside a red brick building with a huge grin on her face, modeling a pink tutu, in a blue dress at graduation.

“And here’s Brooke in middle school—“

“Mom, I’m begging you,” Brooke groans, but the page flips to a picture of teenage Brooke whose reluctant smile reveals wire-covered teeth.

Brooke buries her face in her hands, and Vanessa gently pulls them away.

“Hey, everyone looked horrible in middle school,” Vanessa soothes. “I bleached part of my hair once and looked like Cruella DeVil.”

Brooke brightens. “You owe me a picture of that.”

“Fine.”

The pages turn, and Vanessa doesn’t notice how late it’s gotten, doesn’t notice anything until thunder tears through the sky, bringing pounding rain with it. Everyone jumps, and the reality that they have a half-hour drive in pouring rain and darkness hits, making Vanessa squeeze herself.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” Brooke says. “Wanna go, Ness?”

If Vanessa could focus, she’d notice her face flushing over the nickname. But she can’t, because she very much does not want to go out into that storm.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Vanessa suggests, and Brooke nods.

It’s still going strong half an hour later, and Vanessa’s jumpy, rubbing sweaty hands on her legs.

“I don’t think it’s gonna let up,” Brooke’s mom says in worry. “I’d hate for you to drive in this dark anyway. Maybe you should stay here for the night.”

Vanessa turns to Brooke, who’s biting her lip. Vanessa knows Brooke doesn’t want her to feel uncomfortable staying here, but Vanessa would much rather be in this cozy house than driving in that storm. Brooke gives a nod that lets Vanessa know it’s her call.

“I think we should stay, Brooke,” Vanessa says quickly. “There’s no point driving in this or waiting for it to stop and driving home at midnight or something.” She appeals to reason, not wanting her fear to show.

Brooke agrees, her gaze softening as she takes in Vanessa. Vanessa suddenly realizes she’s folded up into herself, alert for the next crash of thunder.

Brooke’s mom smiles. “I’ll get the guest bed ready…” She heads down the hall and Brooke turns to Vanessa, eyes soft and tender.

“Are you sure you want to stay?” Brooke asks. “I don’t want you to think you have to.”

“I want to,” Vanessa insists.

Thunder rumbles and Vanessa jumps, curling into Brooke’s side on instinct. Brooke seems shocked at first, but softens into the touch.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Brooke says softly. She lowers a tentative arm around Vanessa and her muscles unclench. “We’re safe in here.”

“Sorry,” Vanessa whispers. “I know it’s just a storm—“

“Don’t worry. Everyone’s afraid of something,” Brooke soothes. “I’m really afraid of flying. Small spaces too.”

Vanessa nods shakily. It’s so embarrassing to be scared of thunderstorms as an adult. No one judged her as a kid in her blanket nest, snuggling stuffed animals to protect her from the rain lashing at the windows. Even her brother would stop teasing and let her hold his favorite Batman action figure. Her mom would bring her hot chocolate and comfort her, and Vanessa shouldn’t need comfort anymore. But Brooke is offering it, holding her securely enough to fend off a storm herself, and Vanessa lets her, the safety of Brooke’s arms better than her childhood blankets.

When Brooke’s mom says the guest bed is ready, Vanessa thinks she would rather sleep in Brooke’s arms.

—

The guest bed is a cozy cloud of soft white cotton sheets, and Vanessa wants to jump right in.

Brooke grabs two pillows. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” she says, assembling a makeshift bed with the pillows and spare blankets.

“Oh, you don’t have to–”

“I don’t mind. Really,” Brooke insists.

Brooke’s gaze lingers on Vanessa, and Vanessa tries to catch all the feelings that flash across Brooke’s face. Does Brooke look…hopeful? Like she wants Vanessa to resist, pull her into the bed? Or is she hoping Vanessa lets her stay on the floor so they don’t have to sleep together? Is she worried about making Vanessa uncomfortable? Is Brooke uncomfortable? Vanessa doesn’t want to make Brooke uncomfortable, doesn’t want to force anything, so she agrees, wondering if that’s sadness or something else on Brooke’s face. Vanessa slides between the sheets, and the bed feels way too big with just her in it.

“It’s weird, sleeping in my parents’ house.” Brooke’s voice rings faintly from the floor, and Vanessa moves to the edge of the bed to hear her better. It reminds her of the sleepovers she had as a kid, snuggling in her Little Mermaid sleeping bag and sharing secrets with her friends, everything more exciting when it was past their bedtimes.

“Sleeping in other places doesn’t bother me,” Vanessa says. “I stayed at my parents’ last Christmas and slept like a baby. Even better than a baby.”

“Is the bed okay?” Brooke frets. “I can–”

“It’s fine.” Vanessa pauses. It could be the sleepover memories rubbing off, but she wants to talk with Brooke, talk all night about everything and nothing, in a way she hasn’t since she was thirteen.

“What were you like in school?” she asks, eager for more of the Brooke in that photo album, of the joy in her eyes that Vanessa recognizes now sometimes.

Brooke props herself up on her elbow and peeks up at Vanessa. “Quiet, mostly. You know how some kids just walked in a room and made friends?”

“Yeah.”

Brooke sighs. “I couldn’t do that. I usually read by myself at recess, watching the other kids. I could never think of anything to say, and when I did it was either too late or I was too afraid to say it. I thought everyone would laugh at me. They usually did.”

“I’m sorry,” Vanessa breathes into the space between them.

Brooke shrugs. “It’s okay. I had some friends, but I didn’t mind being on my own. Or I got used to it, anyway. I don’t know if things would’ve been different if I wasn’t as nervous around people, y’know?”

“I get it,” Vanessa says. She would say more, but she knows it’s hard for Brooke to open up, and she doesn’t want to push her.

“What were you like?” Brooke asks.

“I was funny. I made one joke and suddenly I was the class clown. I didn’t always want to be, though,” she admits. “I was smart. I loved reading, loved learning—when I could focus, cause ADHD’s a bitch. But everyone thought I was stupid, ‘cause I was so restless. That’s why I decided to keep being funny instead. I didn’t realize there’s no reason I couldn’t be both.”

She had been friends with everyone—cheerleaders, drama kids, honors students. She had cracked jokes in class and had the charm to win over anyone. But it had been exhausting at times–sometimes she just wanted to curl up in the library and read, but there was no escaping the funny, popular kid gig, no way to try new things or change herself.

“Right,” Brooke agrees. “It’s like you were stuck in a box. Whatever people called you, that’s what you were.”

Vanessa nods, because that’s it. Brooke always gets her, and it’s a relief to have that understanding.

“God, school sucked, didn’t it?” Vanessa mutters. “At least we never have to go back.”

“Shit, yes. You couldn’t pay me to do high school again.”

They keep talking–about school, about childhood, about themselves–until Vanessa’s not even aware of the rain anymore, until there’s nothing in the world but their secrets and laughs floating through the darkness. They keep talking until Brooke’s eyes start drooping, her words growing farther and farther apart as she drifts off around 2am, and Vanessa settles and tries to do the same.

But she can’t sleep. That hole in the mattress where Brooke should be is a hole in Vanessa’s heart. Why didn’t she insist Brooke get in the bed with her? Vanessa usually sleeps well, but her best sleep is always with someone there, with warmth and safety beside her.

As a kid, she slept with her entire stuffed animal collection so no one felt left out. Through all her relationships, it was sleeping with someone that she loved the most–waking up in the night and feeling the safety of someone there, letting arms curve over her waist, the morning sun shining off her girlfriend’s face. There was such intimacy and tenderness in seeing someone sleep, seeing them so vulnerable and knowing that you loved them and would protect them. Maybe it’s better Brooke’s not next to her. Maybe it would bring up those feelings.

Vanessa peers down at Brooke. She’s curled up on her side, lips parted slightly. Vanessa’s heart beats in time with the gentle rise of Brooke’s chest. Sweet Brooke, who held her in the storm and always praised her and brought her coffee just because. Who always thinks of others first and never makes Vanessa do anything she’s uncomfortable with.

She looks at Brooke’s face, soft and untroubled and angelic in her sleep, and her heart swells, and shit, she knows that feeling. She tries to stop it, but it’s like using an umbrella for defense from a hurricane. She wants Brooke here, wants her warmth and intimacy because—

Because she’s in love with Brooke.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #akeria davenport #nina west #branjie #lesbian au #s11 #fake dating au #if you ever wanna be in love #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission

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cinnamon-bebe · 4 years

Text

The Bridge - Part II

The Bridge - Part I

Summary: Two ex-lovers find their paths crossing once again - continuation from Part I - Sebastian and reader reacquaint themselves in each other’s lives again, much to the reluctance of Y/N.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warning: Angst

(Sorry for the delay! It’s been so incredibly busy lately!)

———————————————————————————————————–

“Roamer of the Cretaceous period, the ‘Tyrant Lizard King’, Tyrannosaurus Rex was one of the most fearsome predators on the planet. Boasting a set of 50-60 banana sized teeth, these carnivores were-”

Sebastian and Y/N stood in awe of the animatronics in front of them. A T-Rex on prehistoric land, turning its head every so often and roaring unexpectedly, to give the startled kids a fright. Occasionally the sound of an adult shriek could be heard, followed by a simmering wave of snickering among the crowd.

“Woah, careful guys.” Sebastian bends down, protectively guarding the small group of children in front of him. A bunch of teenage boys had managed to push their way to the front, boisterously cackling and climbing on the railings to take pictures with the dinosaur. Defeated, the little kids retreat back to their parents as the boys continue with their shenanigans, with just one child standing defiantly.

“Hmph! Not fair!” She stomps her feet.

Recognising the little tot, Y/N bends down to poke her on the shoulders.

“Did you run away from your mama again missy?”

“Dinosaur lady! Caweey me again. I wanna see!” Izzy jumps up and down, her curly hair bouncing on her shoulders.

“Who’s this?” Sebastian whispers.

“My friend.” Y/N smiles before turning back to the girl. “I don’t think you should be running off like this, your mummy is going to be worried again.”

“My mama has to look after my baba sister, she can’t push the swoller here so she wait at the back for me.” Izzy points to her mother sitting on the visitor benches, cradling and cooing the bundle in her arms.

Clearing his throat, Sebastian decides it’s only polite to introduce himself to Y/N’s friend. He bends down to her level and extends his hand to her. “Hello dino lady’s friend. My name is Sebastian, what is your name?”

Izzy stares at him with suspicion, eyeing the strange man up and down before determining him to be a enough decent character and accepts his handshake with a beaming smile.

“Izzy!”

“Well hello Izzy, would you like to see the dinosaur?” Sebastian opens his arms but before he could say anymore, he finds them already full with the excited little girl who had leapt into them.

“Are you scared?” He whispers to the grinning child who shakes her head.

Y/N watches as the new friends become quickly acquainted, Izzy’s pitchy giggles erupting every time Sebastian says something funny. Both of them gasping as the T-Rex opens its mouth to roar, with Sebastian clutching his heart for added drama.

What a man child. Yet even so Y/N can’t help but laugh along with their silliness. To a bystander, they seem to be an idyllic little family spending a Sunday afternoon out at the museum. Mom, Dad and daughter. A modern day Norman Rockwell painting.

A passerby awes as she makes her way past the trio, to which Sebastian turns his head, smiling with unexpected pride whilst holding an oblivious Izzy who is still marvelling at the dinosaur.

“Psst! Dinosaur lady.” Izzy curls her finger at Y/N, bidding her to come closer so she could reach her ear.

“Hm?”

“Is Sebashon your boyfren?” She whispers, not so quietly.

Y/N looks at Sebastian, who returns the same uncomfortable expression on her face. The realisation of how bizarre this whole situation is quickly unravels before her. What is she doing playing happy families with her ex and some stranger’s kid? Has she stumbled upon some sort of alternate universe?

“No Izzy. Sebastian is…he’s just someone I used know.” Y/N smiles, purposely looking at him as she uttered every syllable. Fearing he has mistaken her goodwill for something beyond what it is, she needed to draw the line and clarify to him and herself, that this…meant nothing.

Sebastian doesn’t say anything, instead he clears his throat and turns his attention back to the child in his arms.

“Come Izzy, I think your mommy want to see you.” He tells the girl before carrying her back to her mother, leaving Y/N to stand alone.

Y/N inhales deeply, what is this feeling inside her chest?

Regret?

No, it can’t be. Regret implies that she didn’t mean what she had said but how could that be true? She doesn’t love Sebastian, not anymore. She had moved out the city, stopped seeing her old friends, all for fear that she might bump into him again. If there is regret, it would only be because she allowed him to run her out of her own life. If anything, that feeling inside her should be anger.

Resentment.

She curses herself for not turning a blind eye on the bridge. Who did she think she was kidding? Did she really think she could be diplomatic with Sebastian, act like they could be friends?

She watches as he talks to Izzy’s mother, who has obviously just realised who he is. Embarrassed that her audacious daughter had managed make a Hollywood movie star her personal nanny, she apologises profusely, trying her best to pry Izzy off of him; her little hands still grasping tightly onto Sebastian’s shirt. The exchange lasts for only a few short moments before Sebastian makes his way back to Y/N.

“Izzy says to tell dinosaur lady that she’ll miss her.” He reports back.

Y/N smiles, giving the little girl a final wave before she is led out the room.

“So, shall we continue?” Sebastian resumes.

“Actually, I think I should go.” Y/N grapples with the strap of her handbag uncomfortably. “There’s still some other stuff I want to do and it’s way into the afternoon now.”

“Well how about we grab a coffee before you go?” Sebastian interjects before she could slip past him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Hey, it’s just one coffee. After that, you can pretend I don’t exist again.” Sebastian chuckles disingenuously.

Y/N continues fiddling with her bag, looking everywhere but him. The exit seems so close, she could just make a run for it.

“Just a quick one.” She gives in, figuring it’s better to get it over and done with than make a scene in the middle of a museum. The downside of knowing a celebrity is that there’s always someone watching.

“Okay.” Sebastian inhales uneasily, gesturing Y/N to the stairs towards the cafe.

———————————————————————————————————–

The museum cafe was unusually quiet for a Sunday afternoon. A small family occupying the larger table, with a smattering of both young and old couples dotted around the room; their chattering low enough to still hear the gentle pop song playing on the radio.

“A flat white for you and an Americano for me.” Sebastian places the drinks on their table, as Y/N types away on her phone.

“Thanks.” She smiles half-heartedly as she places her mobile back in her bag.

“So how long were you staying with Tara?” Sebastian quickly dives in.

“Just a few days, I hadn’t seen her for so long.”

“You know, she’s always telling me how much she misses you. Why don’t you come back more often?”

Y/N doesn’t respond, taking a large sip of her coffee as she stares out the window. She could feel Sebastian’s eyes on her but she’d rather pay attention to the traffic of visitors outside.

“Are you going to be back anytime soon?” He continues.

“I don’t know.” Y/N finally turns her head back to Sebastian, who still hasn’t touched his drink. “There’s so much going on at work and I’ve got a life now in Chicago. I don’t know when I’ll find the time.”

“Oh.”

A long silence ensues. Sebastian absent-mindedly rubs his thumb against the porcelain ear of his mug, a million thoughts rushing through his head.

“Are you okay?” Y/N mirrors his actions, gently chewing on her lip as she holds down the festering nerves inside her.

“Chicago huh?”

“Yeah.”

“You uh…you always did loved Chicago.” Sebastian smiles. “Do you remember that trip we took there for your birthday? It snowed so heavily when we arrived, we were trapped in our hotel the whole night.”

“Yeah, and we ordered room service and played black jack?”

“You mean I ordered room service and you ate those 7 packs of instant ramen you smuggled into your suitcase?” Sebastian teased.

“Well unlike some people, I like to travel prepared.” Y/N scoffs, masking her gentle titter behind her cup.

“Do you know what my favourite part of that trip was though? That day we went ice-skating and you pushed me and I ended up skidding and knocking over that old couple on the rink.”

“Sebastian that’s awful! You hit them so hard!”

“Well if you hadn’t pushed me!”

“I did not. That was all you. You do one Tonya Harding movie and suddenly you think you’re a pro! I can’t believe that’s your favourite memory.”

“Well if that didn’t happen, I wouldn’t have had you nursing me back to health all night.”

“Yes, piggy backing you back to hotel was so romantic.” Y/N rolls her eyes. “We missed all the reservations we had planned and I was stuck massaging your ankle.”

A solemn smile graces Sebastian’s face. “You always knew how to look after me. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

The comment causes Y/N to look away. Her eyes retreating back to the cafe window, as she leans back into her chair, reinstating the distance between them.

“I’ve really missed you.” Sebastian continues. “Y/N?” He reaches for her hand but she pulls away defensively.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Frustration escaping through the cracks of her voice.

“I just want to talk.”

“No. No we are done talking. I should have never said yes to this. You think you can just buy me coffee, remind me of all the good times and then…and then all our problems will magically disappear?” Becoming mindful of the people around them, Y/N attempts to reign in her volume. “Do you know how hard this last year has been for me?”

“You think it’s been easy for me?” Sebastian fights back. “You don’t think, that I don’t think about you every day, every second since you left?”

“Oh poor Sebastian.” Y/N mocks.

“I tried looking for you. I tried calling. I tried doing everything to find you, to tell you how sorry I am. You wanted me to never see Kaitlyn again? Done. I’ve cut off all contact with her, I’ve deleted her number. Not once has she crossed my mind since you left because the only person that matters is you.”

“You still don’t get it do you?” A single tear trickles down Y/N’s face. “All I wanted was to feel needed, to feel wanted by you.” She pauses, her heart breaking all over again. “I don’t know when the pin finally dropped but suddenly, you just didn’t see me anymore. I was just a person you came home to. Your "I love you’s” became an obligation. It took me a while but I know now that, Kaitlyn was just a way out for us. She a way out for you.“

"Y/N, don’t. That’s not true.” Sebastian could no longer bare looking at her. The same cowardice that held him hostage that night, turning the corner to haunt him once more.

“I know you loved me but we got complacent. That was always your biggest fear.” Slowly draping her bag onto her shoulder, Y/N finally rises to her feet. Looking down at Sebastian, who still refuses to meet her eyes, even for the last time. “I need you to move on. Go enjoy your life, do the things you want and…find someone that makes you happy.”

“And what will you do?” He finally finds the courage to whisper those words. His head remaining low, his body too defeated to find the strength to stop her from leaving. It’s what she wanted, he has no right to inconvenient her any longer.

Reaching out to rest her hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, Y/N recoils before he notices. She stares out at the window again, watching the people come and go obliviously, silently, contentedly.

“I’ll…live my life and I’ll be happy, whatever that may mean.”

Composing herself, Y/N wipes away the traces of tears on her face, ready to brave the outside world again. A world without him.

Is this what closure feels like? She questions.

“Bye Sebastian.” She mouths, her voice so low that she isn’t sure whether he picked it up. But it doesn’t matter.

Bye.

That word doesn’t even register in Sebastian’s head anymore as she disappears past him. His mind occupied by the statements still ringing in his ears. Too busy trying to run through every memory they shared over the past three years.

Is it all true?

Y/N was right about one thing. Sebastian’s greatest fear was that they’d become too comfortable in their relationship. To the point that everything the other person did, no longer bore the same novelty. To the point that their every action became a nuisance and eventually, they’d grow to resent each other.

He admits that their relationship was far from perfect and perhaps it did hit a point of stagnation. The more successful he became, the less time he spent at home and when he was there, his mind was somewhere else thinking about another project on the horizon. All those times, he’d walk past Y/N with his nose in a script. All those times, he’d usher her away because he was taking an 'important’ phone call. It all seems so trivial now.

He relegated her to a place where she felt she didn’t matter to him anymore, when that could be farther from the truth. Fame and fortune took its toll. The pressures of being a working actor and the fear of failure was something he couldn’t communicate to Y/N about. Maybe Kaitlyn was just an excuse for him to escape all that.

He loved Y/N more than anything in this world.

And he still loves her.

________________________________________________________________

Staring out into the city lights, Y/N rests her arms over the bridge. Suddenly New York sounds so quiet. Peaceful. If that were even possible.

She is one of a few on the bridge. The others, a street merchant behind her, selling handmade jewellery since the day started, and a handful of commuters walking sluggishly to the station ready to go home. A parallel to the bustling scene this morning.

The sky pitch black, not a star in sight but the moon, otherworldly; illuminating and watching over the city and its people.

Y/N closes her eyes, comforted by the quiet breeze blowing kindly against her skin. Clutching her chest, she begs for the incessant aching to cease. If New York can find peace, why can’t she?

Her flight leaves early tomorrow morning, yet she finds every excuse to stay just a little longer.“A few more minutes, let me take in the city for just a few more minutes.” She tells herself. After today, she plans to steer clear of this city for as long as needed; until she can disassociate New York from him.

Y/N turns around to the soft touch on her arm.

“Hello miss, I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m selling a collection of some very beautiful and one of a kind jewellery that I personally hand crafted myself. Would you care to have a look?” The middle aged woman smiles earnestly, her eyes tired and her blonde hair slightly dishevelled from the day.

“I’m fine thank you.”

“Please, you might find something you really like! They would make the perfect gift for a loved one, I have pieces for men and for women. I have rings, necklaces, earrings…” The merchant begins to take out several bracelets from her pocket to demonstrate against Y/N’s wrist, which she reluctantly abides to. “In fact, if you come to my stall you’ll see I’ve recently created this gorgeous line of ruby jewellery, just right for a beautiful woman like you. That gentlemen over there just picked up one of my favourite pieces.”

Y/N looks up in the direction to which the woman points.

“Sir! Wouldn’t you recommend my work to this beautiful young woman here? It’s well worth your money isn’t it?” She shouts to the man standing behind them.

“Yeah…they’re very lovely.” He clears his throat, his eyes focusing solely on Y/N. “Could you excuse us for a moment?”

Y/N attempts to hurry past the confused the woman before Sebastian grabs hold of her hand. The woman watches with her mouth slightly agape, unsure whether she should intervene.

“No no, it’s okay. We know each other.” Sebastian reassures the street merchant, who nods slowly and returns to her stall. She watches the couple closely, alert in case she needs to call for help.

“Let go.” Y/N tries to pry his hands off her wrist.

“Not until you hear me out.”

“Let go now or I’ll scream.”

“No. You’ve said your piece, don’t you think I deserve the same opportunity?” Sebastian pulls her closer, forcing her to look at him.

Y/N’s struggles against him weakens, she glances at the woman watching them and quickly looks away embarrassed that this was all being played out in public. “What more could you possibly say?”

“You have every right to hate me.”

“Ha!” Y/N laughs sardonically. She decides to stop her efforts to rid Sebastian’s grip on her. She’ll allow him to finish and if needed, kick her way off this bridge if she has to.

“I was never caring enough, considerate enough.” He continues. “I thought my success would make up for everything else I was lacking and by doing that, I didn’t realise how far I pushed you away.”

Y/N turns her head from him, choosing to look over the bridge and into the city instead.

“There was never a second in those three years that I didn’t love you. Even now, I don’t think I can properly compute just how much I still do. You’re the only woman I do see and you’re the only woman who sees me…You mean more to me than you will ever know and the only thing that scares me now, is that you’ll leave here thinking otherwise.” Sebastian releases his hold on her, allowing Y/N to stand willingly by herself.

With her head still turned, Sebastian can see the tears quietly falling against her cheek.

“Y/N?” Sebastian pulls her into his chest, holding her head gently his hand.

“I can’t do this again.” Y/N cries.

“And you won’t. I won’t let this happen to us again. If it means my career taking a backseat, if it means I start taking on the little projects so I can be with you. So be it.”

“No. I don’t want that.” Y/N pulls away, finally looking at him. Sebastian’s gently cups her blushed cheeks, his thumb wiping away her tears which were still escaping her eyes. “I don’t want you to sacrifice doing the things you love.”

“Then what? You tell me and I’ll do it.” Sebastian whispers.

“I don’t know…talk to me? Share things with me? I don’t want us to be strangers.”

“We won’t. I promise. I have so much I’ve wanted to tell you but have just been too scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That…you’ll see just how weak I really am.”

“Sebastian.” Y/N blinks back her tears so that she could finally see him more clearly. “You’re not weak. Just stupid.”

Sebastian smiles.

“I know how much you worry about your career and finding your place in the industry but no matter what happens, even if you lose all your money and your fame. It will never change my opinion of you. I fell in love with you, not the fancy actor.”

“I know.” Sebastian gazes down at Y/N. In this moment he cannot figure out why he ever doubted that. He lowers his head, tenderly placing a soft and longing kiss on Y/N’s lips. Her kiss, her scent even more perfect than he had remembered. Pulling away, he rests his forehead against hers. “So, are you still going back to Chicago?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N sighs.

Entwining his fingers into hers, Sebastian slowly leads her away from the side of the bridge.“You can make that decision tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N rests her head against his arm. Finally feeling the peace that she had sought long and hard for, she no longer needs the breeze to bring her comfort. She has found her peace, which always remained with Sebastian. She allows herself to be guided by him, holding her tightly next to him.

They both wave to the street merchant, as they leave. Her genuine smile sending them her deepest blessings as they disappear from sight.

“So what did you buy from that lady?” Y/N enquires curiously.

“It’s a gift.” Sebastian smiles to himself. His finger inside his pocket, circling the Ruby band.

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #fanfic #marvel #imagines #not my gifs #Bucky Barnes #chris evans #anthony mackie #the bridge part 2

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